A Real Honest to Goodness Burglar
by redroses100
Summary: Bilbo is a Thief, and a superb one at that! Life has been nothing but cruel to him, and he takes work as he can find it. It works pretty well, and he survives at least. But then he's hired by Smaug to steal the Arkenstone from Erebor. An impossible mission, but one he must accept. Unfortunately, things never do go as planned. Starts out pretty tame, but it will be M in the future.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: Hello! This idea has been a long time coming, and I'm rather pleased with it. It's an AU where Bilbo is a Thief and an Assassin and he's hired by Smaug to steal the Arkenstone from Erebor. Since it's an AU (and it's about as AU as you can get) ages, time lines, and personalities might be a little off. For instance, Bilbo is about 19 years old by human standards, so barely of age. And Thorin and the company retook Erebor years before this story takes place, without Bilbo's help. Deal with it. Hope you like it! _

OOOOO

Bilbo sighed as he soaked a rag in the coldest water possible before running it over his mother's forehead. She had a fever again. The fifth time this week. It fluctuated enough that Bilbo wasn't as worried as he could be. Not as worried as he'd been when she had a fever for two weeks straight. She'd been sick for so long that Bilbo had no shortages of scares committed to memory. Still, he knew any fever was dangerous, even the fluctuating one his mother was currently suffering from.

Belladonna and Bilbo had been living like this, with Bilbo wearing himself ragged caring for her, for years now. Ever since his father, Bungo, died in the Fell Winter, it had been just the two of them. But misfortune piled upon misfortune, tearing them from Bag End and depositing them in a dirty, tiny shack in the woods. Still within the Shire, but no where near the quality of a respectable, or even acceptable, Hobbit hole. The only reason they managed to keep their hut and keep Belladonna alive was because of Bilbo and his...discreet jobs.

Of course he had a normal job. He helped Farmer Maggot with his crops, every day, for long hours and little pay. It was a steady job, but it wasn't enough. He had started taking the contracts half a year after moving to the deplorable hovel. Being a Hobbit, he was naturally quick and quiet. Being the son of a Took made him even better at it. Necessity and love for his mother made him the best. He was invisible when he wanted to be, and there was nothing he could not steal.

It had started out as just stealing, really it had. But as Belladonna got even worse, the jobs got worse as well. The first time he was contracted to kill, he was panicking about his mother's health, desperate for a large sum of money. He's done well with the job, and from that point on, the calls kept coming. Bilbo Baggins became the best thief and assassin West of the Misty Mountains. Maybe further. But despite it all, all the jobs and contracts and charity from appreciative contractors, it wasn't enough.

There was never enough for them to leave the hutch and return to Bag End. Never enough to completely cure Belladonna of her persistent illness. Never enough for him to eat his fill, though over the years he had learned to live on very little and it hardly bothered him. He held out hope that one day he would have enough. That he would have more than enough, enough to rub in other Hobbits faces. Enough to spit at the greedy, no good Sackville-Bagginses who had driven them out of Bag End at the first sign of weakness. He wanted nothing more than to find Lobelia and her son Lotho and show them exactly what he had to do to keep him and his mother alive. But he supposed he couldn't kill them. Not without a contract.

"B-Bilbo?" His mother asked, though she wasn't really focused.

"Yes mother?" He asked softly, dipping the rag in the icy water again.

"Don't you...have work?" She asked, obviously confused. Bilbo smiled at his sweet mother and kissed her forehead. He hadn't told her the farming season was over. That he was out of a job for the next few months. She didn't need to worry about it.

"Don't worry about that mother. Farmer Maggot gave me a few days off." Luckily, Bilbo had just had a very good contract which left him enough gold for the next month. However, he would have to take another few contracts soon. Belladonna made a noise that suggested she heard him, though she was already back off in a dream, he could tell. She moaned and twisted in her sleep, obviously in pain from the illness in her chest. Bilbo sighed and reached for the laudanum. They were running low, he should go get some more while she was asleep.

After giving her a dose of the pain medicine, Bilbo petted his mother's hair back from her face, soaked the cloth again, and covered her up to chin with her thin blanket. He'd only be gone for an hour at the most, but he still worried for her. Even if she was heavily sedated. He wrapped himself in his father's old cloak, pocketed a few coins from his latest pay, and left the shack.

It was getting colder every day. They'd spent years enduring freezing winters in their disgraceful excuse of a home that didn't keep the cold out one bit. But with his mother so low of health this year, he might have to sacrifice a few meals to get her a warmer blanket, and some soup. Such warm meals were a luxury to the two of them, but it was necessary. He couldn't lose his mother. He could survive without her, he'd proved that to himself and others. But he loved her more than the Shire. More than Middle Earth. She was the only one he loved.

The Hobbits he passed avoided looking at him, and he kept his gaze cold and steady ahead of him. He held no love for these people. None of them had helped his family in their time of trial. None of them stepped forward now with help. Why should he even pretend to like them? Not even the richest would loan Bilbo money to buy the expensive cure for his mother's illness. The family with the largest Hobbit hole would not open their many halls to the pair. The fattest Hobbit would not offer anything but bread and water if they offered anything at all.

The only family Bilbo loved were the Gamgees, his neighbors from when he lived back in Bag End. But when hard times fell on Bilbo and his family, the Gamgees could do nothing to help them. They had no room to take them in, nor did they have money to support them. Hamfest and his wife did what they could, sending their boy Sam over with food from their garden. Or sneaking a blanket or two into the home under the pretense of checking on them. And when Bilbo left for his contract jobs, it was Daisy Gamgee that watched his dear mother. He owed the Gamgees much, and he hoped someday he would be able to repay them.

"Master Baggins, back again so soon? You were only in last month." The Shire's only healer, Greoff Gamgee, Hamfest's cousin, looked up when Bilbo entered his shop. He was familiar with the lad, Bilbo often came to the shop for his mother. And sometimes he cut back prices and offered free things to the young Hobbit without telling Bilbo he was doing so. It was only right, being a healer and all, for him to help as much as possible. If Bilbo never found out about his kindness, he didn't mind. Though of course Bilbo did know. He noticed every time.

"Mother's getting worse. I need more opiate." He spoke quietly, obviously exhausted. But even quiet and tired, he was always appearing so strong around the others. He never showed just exactly how tired he was, or how badly he wanted to scream and cry and yell for all that life had done to him. All that he had suffered.

"Of course lad. Let me get some from the back." Greoff said with a smile and waddled off. The healer himself had a bad leg, and Bilbo felt bad making the older Hobbit have to go into his back room to fetch what he needed. But he needed it for his mother. The gray haired but cheerful Gamgee came back with a bottle of amber liquid and put it gently on the counter. "That'll be ten silver." He told Bilbo discreetly. Both of them knew that last month, he'd asked twenty silver for the bottle. And the month before it was thirty silver. But as winter approached and he had more supplies to give, the price dropped. Only for Bilbo though. The golden haired Hobbit pulled a gold coin from his pouch, valued at twenty-five silver, and insisted that the healer take it all.

"Thank you Greoff." Bilbo was about to leave when Greoff spoke up again.

"Bilbo, could I ask a favor of ya boy?" Bilbo stopped and turned, nodding. "I need to get some packages delivered from Bree, but me boy is off in Buckland for a fortnight. Perhaps you could ride to and back and I could pay ya." Bilbo wondered briefly if Greoff had heard that Bilbo had recently been laid off working for Farmer Maggot. For the season, anyways. The harvesting was done and there was no more to do until spring, so he wasn't needed. The offer was sound, even if it was out of charity.

"Of course I could. Let me take this home and ask Hamfest to check on mother for the next few days, and then I'll be back." Bilbo replied gratefully. The old Hobbit gave him a wide smile and a nod. Bilbo rushed home, where his mother was still perfectly fine and asleep, before making his way to the Hamfest's Hobbit hole.

"Bilbo, lad! Haven't seen ya for weeks boy! What brings ya to our door?" Hamfest asked happily as soon as he opened the door to the golden haired Hobbit.

"Greoff's asked me to pick some things up for him in Bree. I shouldn't be gone long, but if you could maybe check on mother once a day?" He asked, humble as ever.

"Of course Bilbo. How is Belladonna?" He asked, a somber note creeping into his voice.

"She's getting worse. She has a fluctuating fever, and her coughs bring blood to her lips. The best thing I can do is keep her asleep as much as possible, for the pain." Hamfest nodded sympathetically. It really wasn't fair what Bilbo went through at his young age. Barely 35, only two years of age, and devoting his entire life to his mother and her health, living in a squalid hut in the woods.

"The missus will go over later, and I'll check on her in the morning. We'll trade off. Don't you worry Bilbo, she'll be fine while your gone." Bilbo smiled gratefully, hugging Hamfest warmly before turning to head back to Greoff's shop. "And Bilbo, be careful will you? Lot's of unsavory people in Bree." Bilbo smiled slightly, thinking of the unsavory people Hamfest spoke of. He'd done business with most of them, and killed some of them as well. Hamfest's concern was touching, but if anyone could protect themselves, it was Bilbo Baggins.

Bilbo was on his way to Bree before nightfall. He drove Greoff's pony and cart carefully through the muddy roads towards the city of Man, at a moderate pace. He wasn't worried about thieves, not when he had matching knives in his waistband and a bow behind him in the cart. He didn't come upon any trouble, and since he was used to not sleeping, they didn't stop during the night. By morning they were halfway to the Brandywine.

It took Bilbo two more days to reach Bree, and he was welcomed by the sight of Man sized buildings of brown and black, and mud that never seemed to dry out. Bree was large and sprawling and generally...brown. No trees or green grass or kids playing cheerfully in the street. Bilbo got many looks as he went, but it was mostly from the shady looking figures that stayed in the shadows. The ones that knew who he was and what he was capable of. The others only saw a nice young Hobbit who couldn't hurt a fly as he maneuvered through the streets.

"Greoff sent ya, did he?" He was stopped as he was almost to his destination by an old Man, so hunched over, that he was barely taller than Bilbo. "Recognize the horse. Well, come on then. I got his stuff out back." He said without offering as much as a name. The old Man hobbled the way to the large apothecary that Bilbo had been headed towards and brought Bilbo around to the quieter back alley. "It's those four crates there. Think you can handle loading them?" Bilbo almost laughed because, whether or not he could handle the crates, this old Man was obviously not going to be of any help one way or the other.

"I can manage." He said instead. The old Man nodded and limped into his shop without another word. Bilbo had to put some effort into loading the crates up, but after years of running around, stealing and killing people, he'd built up enough muscle to do this. He only struggled on the last crate, it was heavier by far than the others, and Bilbo was mildly curious as to the contents, but that wasn't his business. He succeeded in lifting the crate, but the first step he took he faltered, and it nearly sent him into the mud with the heavy box on top of him.

He was saved from his fate when a pair of arms took the crate from his hands and the Man they belonged too strode over to the cart and placed it down like it weighed little to nothing. Bilbo watched him carefully, wary of everyone, even if this Man was helping. The Man dusted his sleeves off before turning to face the Hobbit. Bilbo was a bit stunned for a moment. The Man was tall, as all Men were, but also lithe and willowy, with the kind of muscle that Bilbo had. It was there, but people often failed to see it until he used it. Not usual for the Men of Bree. The Man was dressed in all black, and when he drew back his hood, Bilbo saw his lightly curled hair was just as black as his clothes. His eyes were strangely gold, a color Bilbo had never seen for a Man's eyes, and they observed him just as intently as he was observing the Man.

A smirk came from pale pink lips as apparently, the Man liked what he saw. Bilbo had to admit that the dangerously sharp cheekbones and pale skin of this stranger were rather beautiful. He had a glow to him, almost like an Elf, but he was definitely not an Elf. At the same time, Bilbo didn't think he was just a Man. Maybe some sort of half breed. All Bilbo knew was that his strange helper was strong and lovely and staring at him like he was a meal.

"Thank you for your assistance." He said awkwardly and went to get back on his cart. The sooner he got back on the road the better. He'd stop just before leaving Bree to refill his water skin and pick up some bread and dried meat, but he didn't want to delay beyond that.

"You are different than I imagined you, Barrel Rider." Bilbo froze in his tracks. Only certain people knew that name, it was the name he used in his contracts as an alias. If this Man knew it, he could only assume he was there to commission Bilbo. And while Bilbo had enough gold from his last job, as well as what Greoff would pay him for his errand to Bree, winter was coming and his mother was getting so much sicker. So he turned back to the smirking Man.

"And what were you expecting?" He asked, a bit put out by the statement. He'd heard it before, Men judging him by his size and not his skill, and it pissed him off every time.

"Well someone older for one. Older, taller, less attractive." Bilbo couldn't help but shiver at the smile that accompanied the last one. "But if what they tell me is true, that won't matter." He drawled. Bilbo got the distinct impression that he wasn't going to like this Man. He seemed arrogant, self important. Like nothing could touch him. "I need your skills to steal something." That was fairly regular, and a relief. He always liked the thief jobs better than the assassin jobs. But beggars can't be choosers.

"Steal what?" Bilbo asked, still not letting his guard drop.

"A gem. A very special, very particular jewel. I assume you've heard of the Arkenstone of Erebor." The Man dropped his smirk, all business suddenly.

"The Heart of the Mountain. The King's Jewel." Of course he'd heard of it, every thief worth his salt had heard of the Arkenstone. And any thief with a brain knew it was impossible to steal. "No offense, but I know better. You'll have to find someone more skilled and much dumber than me to steal the Dwarves most prized possession." He pointed out, turning to leave again. So much for that. He'd just have to do a few odd jobs during the winter to get them through comfortably.

"Everyone I speak to tells me that the Barrel Rider _is_ the best. I am confident you could steal it, given enough incentive." The Man persisted, but didn't move to follow Bilbo. He was obviously confident that his proposal would be accepted.

"I doubt it." Bilbo murmured under his breath, but apparently he was heard.

"Not even for a tenth of the gold in Erebor?" Bilbo nearly tripped over himself, barely catching himself in time to not make an idiot of himself. The treasury of Erebor was also known far and wide. Mountains of gold and jewels that could buy the entire Shire one hundred times over. A twentieth of that, hell even a fiftieth of that, would be enough to put this whole miserable business behind him for good. No more stealing or killing. No more sick mother. Everything he'd wished for, hoped for.

"And just how do you intend to get me my reward. Erebor is ruled with an iron grip, after that business with the Dragon. The King will never part with a coin that he doesn't have to, let alone a tenth of his wealth, and the Arkenstone." Bilbo protested, even if his mind was swimming with ideas of all he could do with that kind of gold.

"Once I have the Arkenstone, I can drive all the Dwarves from that mountain. And then the treasury will be mine to do with as I please. Including pay those who have served me." The Man was ambitious, Bilbo would give him that.

"Who are you anyway? What makes you think you could take the Lonely Mountain, even with the Arkenstone?" The Man grinned, a bit too darkly for Bilbo's taste thank you very much.

"The Arkenstone is the heart of the mountain. Whoever hold it, holds the mountain. And I have held it before. I will hold it again." Bilbo narrowed his eyes suspiciously. As far as he knew, no Man had every held the mountain. Only Dwarves and a Dragon, for a time. The Man seemed to read the look on his face. "I am Smaug. I have taken the form of a Man to go about retaking the mountain in a more discreet fashion." Bilbo recoiled, knowing the name anywhere. All of Middle Earth knew the name. The Dragon that took Erebor.

He'd held it for years, until the rightful King of the mountain and a company of Dwarves went back to Erebor and stole it out from under him. Forcing him out with the help of Men, Elves, and Dwarves from the Iron Hills. Bilbo had always thought Smaug had died back then, but evidently not. This Man was dead serious, he really believed he was Smaug. And maybe he was, Dragons possessed all kinds of magic that could lead to him being in Man form.

"But, if you are a Dragon...now see here. I am not a fool. If I help you take that mountain, I will not see a coin, let alone one tenth of them. You are worse than the Dwarf King about hoarding wealth!" Bilbo pointed out, putting the cart between them in case he should anger the creature. But Smaug only smiled patiently and pulled a contract out of his coat, handing it to Bilbo. The Hobbit looked at him wearily but finally took the thick paper.

"A Dragon does not break his oaths. Once we both sign this, I cannot go back on my word until I have given you what we agree upon." He said seriously. Bilbo watched him from the corner of his eyes as he unfolded the contract and read it intently. Smaug really covered every end. And it all spelled out something very simple. If Bilbo got the Arkenstone, Bilbo got one tenth of the treasury of Erebor. If Bilbo failed, or died, he got nothing. Smaug was forbidden to break the contract, or kill Bilbo if he should fail. And Bilbo was forbidden to take the Arkenstone for his own, or claim more than one tenth of the treasure.

"You're very thorough." Bilbo commented as he finished reading.

"Dragon usually are. Do you accept Barrel Rider?" He demanded, staring Bilbo down. Bilbo was still doubtful that he could actually get the Arkenstone. But...he had to try. For his mother, he had to try. He could start a whole new life for him and Belladonna. They could go anywhere, be anyone they wanted to be. She could be healthy, free of her burden. If he failed, nothing would happen to him...except failing probably meant ending up in the dungeons of Erebor, leaving his mother forever. But his tongue was just as quick as his fingers. Maybe he could get out of that too, if he needed to.

"I need some money in advance. Enough to support a Hobbit for however long I will be away." Smaug perked up at this, obviously noticing the catch in Bilbo's throat.

"You have someone you care for. Someone you look after and love." He said knowingly. Bilbo nodded, after all Smaug wouldn't believe him if he lied. "Very well. This should be enough to support your dependent during your absence. Do we have a deal?" Smaug asked again, holding up a large purse that Bilbo was sure was full of gold. Bilbo eyed it before nodding. Smaug offered him a quill and an ink pot, and Bilbo signed his name on the line below Smaug's signature. "Meet me back here in a week, behind the inn. We will go to Erebor together and I will stay in Dale while you use your skills within the mountain." He told him after folding up the contract and putting it back in his pocket.

"One week." Bilbo agreed, watching the Dragon in Man form walk away. One week. If he could cut down his journey to two days, that would give him a few days to settle things in the Shire and set up a paid caretaker for his mother. It felt wrong to expect Daisy and Hamfest to watch her when they had their own lives. Bilbo picked up what he needed for his return journey and set off, only stopping when the pony needed it.

He made it back to the Shire in record time. The first place he went was Greoff's shop. He helped the older Hobbit unload the crates, collected the pay that the healer insisted on giving him, and then he ran home. His mother was actually awake and lucid when he got there. She was laughing with Daisy Gamgee while they talked about gardens and sewing. Bilbo thanked Daisy profusely and when she was gone he sat down with his mother to tell her he was going away. He told her that he had a job transporting some items in Dale and Erebor and that he wouldn't be gone for more than a year.

"My son. You've done so well by me. I wish you didn't have to go to such far off places to pay for me and my Valar forsaken illness." She sighed, stroking his cheek. Bilbo smiled and covered her hand on his cheek with his own.

"I'm going to arrange for someone to look after you while I'm gone. And if you feel your illness taking a turn for the worst, I want you to send a letter at once, okay?" She nodded dutifully and then shortly after laid down for a nap. Bilbo took the time while his mother was asleep to seek out such a caretaker. He found one in the form of Primula Baggins, his cousin. Primula had just been married recently to his other cousin, Drogo Baggins, and she was more than glad to take care of Belladonna while Bilbo was away. She even asked for less pay than Bilbo had been prepared to offer. Bilbo spent a great length of time detailing everything that he did on average for his mother, and Primula dutifully wrote down everything he said so she wouldn't forget.

With that done, he set about packing. Not a lot, not enough to get in the way. Only the basics. A change of clothes, toiletries, some gold just in case. He stayed in the Shire for two days, making sure he had everything in line, and left for Bree in the early morning. He had three days to reach Bree, but this time he was on foot. He would have to walk through every night, but he should reach the city of Man in time. He wondered if Smaug would wait for him, if he was late.

In the end, it didn't matter whether or not Smaug would wait for him. He got there just as the sun was setting, seven days after he left. And sure enough, Smaug was sitting comfortably on top of a pile of hay behind the inn.

"It's about time, Barrel Rider." Smaug said, not even opening his eyes. But, Bilbo knew, Dragons had exceptional senses of smell. It was no wonder he knew it was Bilbo.

"You never specified what time of day to show up. And you can call me Bilbo. Since we're going to be seeing a lot of each other." Bilbo told him, stopping just shy of the hay pile. One golden eye cracked open and Smaug smirked.

"Who said we would be seeing a lot of each other?" The Dragon asked suavely.

"The trek to Erebor takes months to complete, on horse back. But I don't assume we have horses." Bilbo huffed, looking around at the empty alleyway. Smaug chuckled, the deep noise reverberating in Bilbo's chest lightly.

"We have something much quicker than horses...Bilbo." Before the Hobbit could ask, the realization dawned on him.

"But, you'll be shot down! If not by Men or Elves, certainly by Dwarves." Bilbo pointed out. Smaug scoffed and finally stood from his bed of hay.

"We will not be flying until we leave the cities behind, and I will not be taking my full Dragon form. They will never even notice us. I am not such a fool as to put my life on the line, little Thief." Smaug sounded so sure of himself, but Bilbo wasn't as confident. However, he didn't want to argue with a Dragon. He may be adept at killing and fighting, though admittedly he was much better when he had a weapon, but he doubted he would win that particular fight.

"Very well. Lead on." Bilbo assumed they weren't staying in Bree for the night. And though he was tired, and he had walked without rest for almost three days, he was determined to not slow his employer down. He didn't want to piss Smaug off, even a bit. Yet the Dragon seemed to sense Bilbo's exhaustion and snorted.

"We're not going anywhere when you're liable to drop unconscious any second. I will go get a pony so you may rest as we travel." Smaug was walking away before Bilbo could protest. He shrugged, after all it wasn't like he wouldn't appreciate the pony, and laid down on the admittedly soft hay to wait. He knew getting a pony could take a while, especially for a stranger in Bree. By the time Smaug returned with a nickering mare, Bilbo was soundly asleep. The Dragon couldn't help but smirk at the sight. His fierce little thief looked so young and vulnerable as he rested. Smaug could see just how young he really was in that moment, barely in his maturity, but with eyes that had seen countless horrors.

Smaug, rather than wake Bilbo, simply transferred his sleeping body from the hay to the pony. It was a testament to Bilbo's true exhaustion that he didn't stir at all during the transport. Smaug tied a rope around Bilbo's waist and around the mare's neck so the Hobbit wouldn't fall and then he began leading the pony. It was going to be a long journey, even with him flying for most of it, but he found that he was excited. He wanted to see if this thief was truly everything they said he was. He would put Bilbo to the test before sending him into Erebor. But, he would wait until they hit Dale for that. For now, he stopped thinking and simply walked, leading the pony and his Thief out of Bree and into the wild.

OOOOO

_Did you like it? I have more coming, don't worry. But perhaps you could leave a little review or something? Just so I know people are interested? Thanks for reading! _


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: And I'm back! I'm going to try and update this weekly, on Friday nights or Saturday mornings. Anyways, he's more Thief Bilbo and Human Smaug! Plus, a bit of Erebor! Enjoy! _

OOOOO

When Bilbo woke up, he was laying on a bed of furs and the sky was ink black, speckled with millions of stars. There was no other light, no fire, but he was surprisingly warm. He sat up to investigate his surroundings a little better. The pony was tied up a few yard away, sleeping it appeared, and there were two packs on the ground near it. He looked over his shoulder to find the source of his content warmth. Smaug was laying less than a foot away, facing away from Bilbo, and radiating the most pleasant heat. Bilbo smiled and settled back down. He was still tired, he was sure he could sleep more.

"Well, as long as you're awake, we may as well continue on." He jumped a little at the velvety voice that came from the supposedly sleeping Dragon. Smaug turned to look at Bilbo, his golden eyes glowing even in the darkness.

"How long was I-"

"Fifteen hours. We are now far enough away from Bree for my comfort. Release the pony and I will secure our packs." Smaug commanded, rising fluidly from beneath the furs. Bilbo sighed and stretched before doing as he was asked. The pony nickered at him a little as he roused it and untied the saddle from the tree.

"Go on you." Bilbo said with a warm smile. The pony nudged him a few times before turning and trotting off. Bilbo smiled after the mare before turning to help Smaug. He was shocked to behold the new form of his employer. Glistening red scales covered his still humanoid form, and fine crimson wings stretched from his shoulder blades, testing their new limited length. "You never hear about Dragon's changing shape." Bilbo stated when Smaug caught him staring.

"You never hear about Hobbits being thieves either." The Dragon smirked, tying both packs around his waist. The furs were already safely stowed back within them, and there was no evidence of the pair ever being there. "Come, I will have to hold you." Smaug stated rather bluntly, holding out his arms. Bilbo felt his heart stutter a little, but nodded and allowed himself to be picked up and cradled against Smaug's chest. "You weigh so little Bilbo." He commented.

"Life of a Thief. It doesn't afford for many big meals." Bilbo blushed awkwardly.

"Especially when you have a dependent." Smaug added with a knowing look. "I shall have to make sure you eat before sending you into Erebor." He murmured. Before Bilbo could reply, Smaug crouched and when he shot back up, his wings flapped hard, the gust of air propelling them up. Bilbo could tell that Smaug was unused to such flight, in humanoid form, but he was still quite good at it.

Smaug didn't speak as he flew, probably concentrating on keeping them in the sky. Bilbo didn't try to strike up a conversation, mostly because he didn't know what to say to the Dragon. And he too was hoping to survive the flight. Instead he looked down at Middle Earth as it passed beneath him. The moon was only half full, but the silver light still gave him something to look at. They flew over fields and random patches of trees, as well as rocky outcroppings and gentle hills. Ahead there were the Misty Mountains, which appeared to be their destination at the moment. It took several hours for them to reach the base of said mountains, and by then Bilbo was quite sore with being in the same position. He wasn't going to complain, however.

"We shall camp here for the day. When the sun descends we will fly again." Smaug told him firmly, his wings disappearing slowly into his back.

"We just traveled hundreds of miles in a few hours. It's extraordinary!" Bilbo stated, still a little awed. Smaug quirked an eyebrow at the wonder in Bilbo's voice. "I-I'm sorry, am I annoying you?" Bilbo fretted when Smaug just stared at him.

"No. It's just unusual for someone to praise me." Smaug murmured.

"Oh." Bilbo said awkwardly. Smaug stared at him intently for another few moments before untying Bilbo's pack from his waist and tossing it to the Hobbit.

"Get some sleep." He commanded, walking off into the forest that was just a few feet from their camp. Bilbo watched him walk away, a little confused by his behavior, but then shrugged and pulled out his bedroll and the furs Smaug had stuffed in his pack. He stretched and rubbed a few sore places before laying down and closing his eyes. Bilbo didn't fall asleep right away. Instead he simply laid silently, listening to the small sounds of the wild. Birds singing as the sun rose, small animals scuttling about looking for food. Further off he could hear growls as bigger animals hunted their prey, but he wasn't worried. Smaug was an animal, a reptile Bilbo remembered, he would give off a scent. And that scent would scare away predators, because you just didn't mess with a Dragon. Even animals knew that.

At some point Smaug came back into the camp, his footsteps quiet even in his boots. Bilbo heard him milling about for a few minutes before a bedroll was unrolled next to his and Smaug settled on it. Neither said anything, though Bilbo was sure Smaug knew he was still awake. It was just peaceful, sitting in the silence of the early morning. It took him another half an hour or so of being perfectly still and silent before he finally fell into sleep. Smaug did not sleep though, he was a Dragon after all. They slept for long periods of time, but they also stayed awake for equally long lengths. Instead he watched his Thief sleep, observing the little creature that had surprised him quite a bit.

When Smaug was told of the Barrel Rider, he doubted their praise. Bilbo was surely a good Thief, but the best West of the Misty Mountains sounded ambitious, especially when he was pointed in the way of a Hobbit lad. But he wanted the Arkenstone, he wanted his mountain, and if Bilbo was as good as they boasted, he would get it for him. And then what? Smaug would give him the reward and never see Bilbo again. That was the plan. In theory. But in practice it was a bit trickier.

He had followed Bilbo back to the Shire, back to his home. He had seen the way he cared for that female Hobbit, who Bilbo had called 'mother'. He was only doing this, he was only a Thief in the first place, because of that woman and her sickness. It was curious to Smaug, that Bilbo would give up so much for someone who was obviously not going to last much longer. And it was not the only thing about Bilbo that piqued his curiosity.

Being a Hobbit Thief, for one, was intriguing. Until he was kicked out of Erebor, Smaug didn't even know what Hobbits were. He was surprised by the unassuming physical appearance of the little creatures, as well as the hidden fire within them. Bilbo's fire was closer to the surface, being brought out by years of harsh living, Smaug would imagine. But all of his curiosity aside, Smaug did feel something for Bilbo. Perhaps the lust simply came because he had spent so long without the touch of another living being. Or maybe it was because Bilbo was fair in face. But whatever the reason, Smaug would not mind having the Hobbit remain with him in the Lonely Mountain when he again ruled over it. He could even find and deliver the female Hobbit to the mountain if it would make Bilbo's more willing to stay.

He wanted Bilbo to stay. Which somewhat made him wary of the Thief. He had not longed for the company of another being in centuries, what was it about the Barrel Rider that intrigued him and made him long for the Hobbit? He supposed it could be any number of reasons. Admiration for Bilbo's skill, though he still had not seen that in person. Esteem for Bilbo's persistence in caring for his mother. Gratefulness that Bilbo had accepted the contract in the first place. Appreciation for his lovely little face and body. It could be all of them, or none of them. All he knew was that when the contract was completed, he would ask Bilbo to stay. And if the Hobbit said no, he would find some way to make him stay. Probably with the mother.

His musing stretched all morning and afternoon, and when the sun finally set he shook Bilbo awake. The Hobbit blinked sleepily and sat up with a sigh, but didn't protest the awakening. Bilbo had a healthy dose of fear for Smaug, and he seemed to respect the Dragon on some level. He wasn't going to argue with his employer, especially when his employer was a Dragon. Instead he quietly went about repacking their bags and changing his clothes. He didn't appear shy, as he was surely aware of Smaug's golden gaze on him as he changed. But he _was_ facing away from the Dragon.

"We'll fly to the boarder of Mirkwood, camp again, and pass over the forest tomorrow. We'll have to start walking for a few miles before and after Lake Town, but the rest of the way to the boarder of Dale we'll fly." Smaug told Bilbo, who nodded silently. That mean that they should be there in three days. Definitely faster than walking the journey. But Bilbo wasn't eager for three days of being in a cramped position, held to a Dragon chest, hundreds of miles above the surface of the earth.

"Would you be angry if I slept while we flew?" Bilbo asked. He was still a little tired. Smaug chuckled and shook his head.

"Feel free, little Thief." He smirked. Bilbo blushed and handed his pack to the Dragon. Once they were in the air again, Bilbo tucked his head against Smaug's chest and soon enough was asleep again. Smaug found he enjoyed it more than he probably should. He was in no way in love with the boy Thief. But he could appreciate Bilbo for his beauty and his potential and his charm. And perhaps that would be enough for the Thief.

OOOOO

The next three days passed without event. The only time the two talked was to inform the other of any new changes or to say something that simply needed to be said. Bilbo would inform Smaug if he had to wander away for something, and the Dragon always made mention when he left camp for whatever reason. While they were flying, Bilbo would either nap or examine Middle Earth as it passed beneath him with intent fascination. Smaug felt himself growing more and more attached to the Hobbit, who was so eager to see and learn and prove himself. When Smaug had told Bilbo that the Hobbit must display his talents in Dale before entering the mountain, Bilbo readily accepted.

"What shall I steal for you? When we arrive?" He asked as they walked the well kept road between Lake Town and Dale. They passed Men and Dwarves and even some Elves, but no one even gave them a second look. Apparently Bilbo looked enough like a young Dwarf, and Smaug looked enough like a Man, that no one grew suspicious.

"I was considering some food, but I believe I saw some of the King's Company ahead on the path. Steal their signet rings. All of them." Smaug commanded. Bilbo swallowed and glanced ahead, trying to see who Smaug saw. The King's Company consisted of twelve Dwarves, and the King himself. They were the only ones brave enough to enter the Lonely Mountain during Smaug's rein, and they led to his downfall as well. Bilbo could only imagine Smaug's hate for the King's Company, as well as the skill of the Dwarves. He didn't know if he could steal from such accomplished, notable Dwarves. He was good at what he did, but he wasn't the best in Middle Earth or some such nonsense.

Ahead he saw a group of four Dwarves, all wearing the King's blue and silver. There was a rather tall, buff Dwarf with an orc ax lodged in his forehead and a slightly manic look in his eyes. As well, there was a grey haired Dwarf with complex braids and an over all dangerous aura. There was a red headed Dwarf that looked fierce and intimidating. And the last one was quite a large Dwarf with red hair braided in a large thick band that hung on his chest like a necklace.

"All four of them?" Bilbo asked, grimacing.

"All four." Smaug agreed, grinning. Bilbo muttered about Dragons with high expectations and tossed his pack to Smaug, running up to walk along side the Dwarves.

"Hello!" He said brightly, blinking his eyes innocently. The four Dwarves stopped for a moment, before the fat red head started laughing. The other three quickly followed him in his great guffaws, before Bilbo put on his best wounded face. The fat one noticed his fawn eyes first, and he looked a little guilty before elbowing his grey haired companion.

"I'm sorry little one, I didn't mean to offend you. I've just never seen a child with such large feet before." The fat one explained, gesturing to Bilbo's furry feet.

"It's okay, people laugh at me a lot because of my feet. And my ears. They say that my mother was enchanted by an Elf while she was pregnant with me, so I came out wrong." Bilbo used his best pitiable voice, and he visibly saw the four Dwarves react to his made up tale, all looking at each other with more than a little pity and guilt on their faces for laughing at him. The old grey haired one stepped up and looked down at him like he was debating something.

"How old are you?" He asked.

"I just turned ten! Mama asked me to go to Dale to pick up some medicine for her, but I don't know where the medicine is in Dale. I was just going to ask you where it was." Bilbo told them, adding in a couple large eyed blinks for effect.

"Why don't we walk you there." The fat one proposed.

"Yes, Dale is still a little rough to navigate, what with the recovery still in progress. The Dragon really did a number on that town." The not fat red head mentioned.

"Would you really walk me?" Bilbo asked hopefully.

"Of course! A sweet child like yourself, we'd love to. It's not too far from the pub where Bofur and Nori are waiting anyhow." The fat one said brightly. "I'm Bombur, at your service." The Dwarf bowed, as much as his big belly would allow. "That's my cousin Bifur. He doesn't talk in Westron anymore, but he can hear you if you do." Bombur told him.

"I'm Gloin. At your service." The not fat red head introduced himself.

"And I'm Dori, at your service." The grey haired one finished.

"I'm Bryan! It's so great to meet you all!"

OOOOO

"That didn't take long, Thief." Smaug drawled when Bilbo sat down across from him. Bilbo had let himself be lead by the four Dwarves of the King's Company to the apothecary, and he had thanked them profusely. He was so well mannered, and so sweet, that the Dwarves never even seemed to suspect him of nefarious intent. And then it had only taken a few minutes for Bilbo to find out where Smaug had gone to wait for him. There were only so many taverns in town, after all. The grinned at Smaug and stuck his hand in his pocket. He let the four signet rings clank onto the table, the noise being drowned out by the obnoxiously loud atmosphere in the tavern.

"Longer than usual actually. But some thefts require a little acting and dedication." Bilbo shrugged, accepting the pint that Smaug slid across the table towards him. "Will I be tested further?" Bilbo asked, quirking his eyebrow. Smaug considered him, and the rings on the table, before glancing out the tavern window towards the Lonely Mountain.

"No, I believe your skill should be better put to use in the mountain. Are you ready?" Smaug asked, raising one of his eyebrows. Bilbo looked out the window as well, his sharp eyes examining the mountain that lay before them. It was much larger up close, and intimidating to boot. But, he had signed the contract. And if he succeeded, he would never have to steal again.

"Ready as I'll ever be." Bilbo murmured, taking a long drink of his ale.

"Do you have a plan?" Smaug asked curiously. Bilbo shrugged.

"Getting in will be the first step. Finding a place to hide, second. Probably a broom closet or a weapons room. I'll wait until night to take the stone, and I'll keep it and myself hidden for the next day or so. When the frenzy search dies down, I'll make my way back out." Bilbo explained simply. His plan left a lot open, because in his line of work he had to be adjustable. But Smaug seemed impressed, if only just a little bit.

"So you believe you should only need three days?"

"Let me put it this way. If I'm not back in five, then I've been caught. If I'm not back in ten, I can't escape whatever prison they put me in. If I'm not back in fifteen, I'm dead." Bilbo told him solemnly. Then he sighed and reached into his pocket. "If I'm dead, can you take word of it to the Shire? Give this to any of the Hobbits, they'll know who it's for." Bilbo handed him a little envelope with the word '_Mother_' written on it.

"If you insist." Smaug murmured, putting the envelope in a pocket of his coat. "Do you believe you will fail?" Smaug inquired, frowning a little.

"I'll try my hardest not to, but I have to be realistic. It's the Arkenstone. If there's one jewel that impossible to steal, it's the Arkenstone." Bilbo sighed and took another drink. "I have to try. I have to try for her. But I'm not as confident as I have been for past thefts." Bilbo admitted. Smaug nodded slowly, his lips pinching into a tight line.

"At least you are honest." Bilbo snorted a laugh.

"I've surprised myself before. Let's hope this is one of those times." Smaug grunted in acknowledgment and a silence settled between them. When Bilbo was finished with his drink, he stood. "No time like the present right? Might as well get into the mountain tonight, go for the stone tomorrow." Smaug stood as well.

"I wish you luck Barrel Rider. I'll see you in three days." Bilbo snorted lightly.

"At least one of us is optimistic." He nodded to Smaug, pulled the small satchel with his tools out of his pack, and disappeared out of the tavern.

OOOOO

Getting into Erebor turned out to be easier than he thought it would be. The gates were always open, and there were only two guards. They seemed to automatically know if the person entering Erebor was a resident, or someone new who needed to be seen by the King. It was surprisingly easy for Bilbo to slip past them while they weren't looking. And he wasn't stopped as he walked through the grand, carved halls looking for a hideaway.

He found one near the throne room, a locked closet with an absurd amount of dust and cobwebs that suggested it was not used on a regular basis. And the lock was child's play. Bilbo sat down in the least disgusting corner and sorted through the tools he had brought with him. Two daggers, a blow gun, a couple of picks, and a bottle of ether in case he was caught in the act. He bite his lower lip as he carefully considered what to bring with him. He tried not to take weapons on thief jobs, he didn't like to kill if he didn't have to. But he wasn't the best fighter. He could defend himself brilliantly...when he had a weapon. He was hardly effective without one, only really able to defend himself.

In the end, he decided to leave the daggers and blow gun there. If he did get caught, he would plead innocence, and innocence was better sold when one was not armed. He did however grab two of the five picks he had, both small, in case the Arkenstone was kept in the throne by lock and key. He doused a rag in the ether and stuffed it in his pocket, just in case. It would be potent for about an hour before the fumes died down too much. He hoped to be back in his little closet by then.

He had noticed on his way in that everyone was winding down for the night. All he had to do was wait until the echo prone halls fell silent. He amused himself by drawing little pictures in the thick dust that covered every surface. When at last, all the sound died out beyond his door, Bilbo crept from the small room and silently moved from shadow to shadow towards the throne room.

"Thorin, you're worrying too much my dear cousin! The festival will be brilliant, as it always is!" Bilbo froze in his tracks and crouched into a small ball in the darkest part of the shadow he was in. Two Dwarves were coming out of the throne room and one was talking boisterously. They both had black hair and alarmingly blue eyes, and one was wearing the royal crown of Erebor. King Thorin. He really was a handsome Dwarf. Not that Bilbo thought he was handsome.

"You know exactly why I worry, Dain. Rumors have been spreading like wildfire through Lake Town and Dale. They say that Smaug's body was never found in the Lake. They say he still lives." Thorin growled to the other Dwarf, Dain.

"Well the Lake is large, and full of many different creatures. The carcass was probably consumed. What makes you think a Dragon would attack during the festival anyways?" Thorin started to answer, but his cousin cut him off. "Enough! Thorin, nothing will happen. I did not travel all the way to Erebor to listen to you fret over rumors! The Winter Festival is one of the most important Dwarvish traditions, you have to honor it. No matter about supposedly living Dragons. Now, there's three weeks until the festivities begin, and there are still many things you have to decide on. For instance, will you allow..." The voices died out as the two royal Dwarves turned a corner, leaving the hallway quiet again. Bilbo listened intently for anymore noise before he continued towards his goal.

The throne room was empty, Bilbo made sure of it before he opened the door, but it was like a presence in and of itself. The room was huge, expertly crafted by the greatest craftsmen in Middle Earth. The great stone pillars disappeared into darkness way down below, and walkways ran from side to side, and up to the throne itself. Bilbo felt his eyes go wide at the sight of the magnificent display. The King of Erebor, King Thorin, sat on that throne every day. No wonder people thought he was so intimidating. And there, set into the throne, was the Arkenstone.

Bilbo's feet didn't make a sound as he approached the throne. He kept a wary eye out for any unexpected visitors, but he never saw anyone. And it was shockingly easy to remove the Arkenstone from its place in the throne. His picks were never needed. He was about to return to his room when the door opened, and in his panic, all he could think to do was duck behind the throne. Heavy footsteps came closer and closer until suddenly they stopped and there was an audible gasp. Then the footsteps were running, in the other direction, and a voice was shouting for King Thorin. Bilbo's stomach flipped. He would have to be very careful how he proceeded.

Either he tried to leave tonight, without his tools in the closet, just book it to the gate and get out. Or he tried to get back to the closet and wait it out for a few days. But, King Thorin was already on high alert, because of the rumors of Smaug's survival. Bilbo didn't want to tempt fate by sticking around. Instead he dumped his two picks and his ether rag and slipped down a side walkway. There were doors all around the throne room, and Bilbo had no idea where this one would lead, but he wasn't going out the main door. That was for sure.

The hallway was quiet, and devoid of life, so Bilbo let out a sigh and walked on, clutching the Arkenstone to his stomach. His pockets weren't large enough for the jewel, he should have brought a bag or something. But he was hoping that the guards at the gate would be called into the mountain to look for the stone before he got there. That way he could just slip out, easy. But that thought made his stomach turn again. This was going very smoothly. All of it. It made Bilbo think that maybe the worst was still to come. And he wasn't looking forward to that.

Noise began to fill the hallways and Bilbo ducked into a small dark corridor. Soldier ran past him, blissfully unaware of his presence. There was shouting and just general chaos as every nook and cranny was checked for the Arkenstone. Bilbo was almost caught a few times, but always managed to slip away at the last second. He had never been more thankful for his silent Hobbit feet and his small stature. When the soldiers deemed the hallway cleared, they moved on and Bilbo continued towards the gate. He couldn't explain how he knew where he was going. It just felt like the right direction.

He could practically see the light glow of moonlight ahead of him, so very close. Smaug would be surprised that he had returned so soon. Hell, Bilbo was surprised he would be returning so soon. He had never, in his most optimistic fantasies, imagined he could steal the Arkenstone of Erebor so easily. He never thought he would be able to do something of this magnitude! He only had one more hallway between his current life as a thief and a killer, and his future life, of prosperity and health and happiness for his mother. Maybe that was why he was allowing himself to walk in plain sight, right down the middle of the hallway. In retrospect, that was probably his biggest mistake.

Bilbo imagined that there were probably quite a couple deities that were laughing at him at that moment. Because they knew his good luck could only last for so long. And they were just waiting for the inevitable.

Bilbo felt everything in his entire world, all his faith in himself, all his good luck and skill, all his hopes, fade in a few measly seconds. With four little words.

"What are you doing?"

OOOOO

_Evil cliffhanger is evil. Feel free to leave a review of your thoughts, or if you have any questions. See you next week for the next chapter! Thanks for reading! _


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: I have returned! So here's the next chapter! Introducing Thorin! Although, I will say, that I kinda hate my Thorin. At least for the first couple of chapters he's in. Then he gets better. Probably. Maybe. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! _

OOOOO

"What are you doing?" Bilbo froze in his steps, feeling as though his stomach had turned to pure lead and dropped right to the floor. He couldn't even will himself to look and see who had caught him. Someone had caught him...with the Arkenstone in his hand. Bilbo bit his lip and pushed his mind to think quickly. Innocence. Feign innocence, that was always the easiest way to avoid imprisonment. He had learned that early on in his career as a thief.

"I found it in the hallway, I was coming to find someone. To return it." He claimed nervously, finally turning to look at whoever it was. It was just his luck that he was face to face with the King of Erebor. King Thorin was tall, for a Dwarf, with thick black hair that had only a few silver strands through it. And the most piercing blue eyes Bilbo had ever seen. The poor Hobbit had thought that Smaug's gaze was the most intense look he'd ever received. But the glare cast on him by the Dwarf King put that to shame. Bilbo held out his hand with the Arkenstone and Thorin slowly walked up to him.

"You found it." He stated, his voice assuring Bilbo that he did not believe him. "Which hallway did you find it in?" Thorin asked, taking the gem from Bilbo's small hands.

"It was two hallways over, it was pushed into a nook in the wall, but I saw it shining and figured you were probably looking for it." He did his best to sound like a humble subject and not a guilty thief. And for a second, he thought he'd have a chance. Maybe he could distract Thorin and run. He was so close to the gate. But then footsteps came from behind him, and a glance over his shoulder revealed two strong Dwarves were baring the way, watching their King for any signal.

"The problem with that story is that we searched all these hallways. Thoroughly." Thorin sounded almost patronizing.

"Maybe you just missed it. I mean, it was pretty well hidden and I have very good eyesight." _Oh please don't let them kill me. What would happen to mother if I were to die here? _Bilbo looked up at Thorin with the most innocent face he could muster. And being a Hobbit, he could make some pretty unassuming faces. They had gotten him out of trouble several times before.

"How did you get in the mountain?" Thorin wasn't buying his innocence, not for a second. He stepped forward and Bilbo stepped back, just out of instinct.

"T-Through the door." Bilbo stumbled a bit over his words, really getting nervous now. All his words and pleading looks were doing nothing to ease the glare he was receiving. And he couldn't very well fight the Dwarves with his weapons hidden away in the spare room. He knew he should have brought a dagger with him. Hand to hand combat wasn't his finest suit, and he was much weaker than these Dwarves. Not to mention there were three of them and only one of him. It was not going to be easy to escape a Dwarven made dungeon. If they even put him in the dungeon. They might just kill him. He hoped they didn't kill him. He had to go home, to his mother. She only had so much gold left to take care of herself with.

"Every person who enters the mountain is brought before me in my throne room. And I have never seen a Halfling before this moment. You should start telling the truth, Thief. Maybe I will be more inclined to spare your life." The King growled. Bilbo pressed his lips together, deciding he would not say anything more. He would not incriminate himself, and these Dwarves couldn't make him. The King glared down at him for a long moment before nodding to the two Dwarves behind Bilbo. Before the Hobbit could even think to run or slip around the guards, they each had one of his arms, and they were carting him off down the hall.

He writhed in their grips, and did the best he could to break away from them. At one point he managed it, and started running, but he didn't get far. In the end, he was pretty useless without a weapon. So much for being the Great Barrel Rider. Best thief and assassin West of the Misty Mountains. Though, it wasn't only his fault. All his luck had apparently run out, and now the Valar seemed to be having more fun laughing at him that anything else.

"He's got some fight to him." One of the beefy Dwarves that was towing him along spoke over his shoulder, and it was only then that Bilbo realized King Thorin was following after the three of them. "More than you'd expect from a runt." The Dwarf added with a sneer. Bilbo snarled at him and aimed a well placed kick to the Dwarf's knee. The Dwarf went down, but Bilbo didn't have time to relish his tiny victory. Thorin grabbed him by his collar, nodding off the other two Dwarves, and he continued marching the Hobbit forward.

"You continue to make this worse for yourself Thief." He leered down at his prisoner.

"Do you treat all strangers like this, Oh King of Erebor?" Bilbo growled. He was finding it harder to fight one Dwarf than it was to fight two. Thorin kept him in front of his body, pushing him forward. He stayed well away from Bilbo's arms and legs, with a practiced efficiency.

"Only the Thieves and Liars." Thorin deadpanned. "Struggle all you like. It will get you no where." Bilbo believed his words. Really he did. But it wasn't in his nature to go down without a fight. Especially since he had gotten so close! So close to succeeding and earning his greatest reward yet. So close to giving his mother everything she ever wanted and more. So close to restoring his family to their high pedestal that had collapsed from beneath them, starting in the Fell Winter. In his mind, Bilbo thought how fitting it was that his fall should be during Winter. Just like his father, but definitely less honorably than Bungo.

They entered the surprisingly empty dungeon, and Thorin put his prisoner in the very last cell. It was small, very small, but that didn't mean it would be any easier to escape from. He tossed Bilbo through the doorway, smirking cruelly when the Hobbit tripped over his feet and ended up sprawled across the cold stone floor. Thorin took a minute to observe the boy. He was so small, but there was definite muscle to his body. He appeared to use what little strength he had to good effect, but Thorin could tell he wasn't lethal until he had a weapon. And Thorin could also tell that beneath his anger, there was a deep sadness in him.

"What is your name, Thief?" He demanded. Might as well start interrogating him now.

"You seem so happy calling me Thief. I would hate to disappoint you." He was still so spirited, even though he was caught. Some would call it idiotic, but Thorin had to admit to being intrigued, and maybe a bit impressed. Such life, such purpose. There was more than met the eye to this boy. Even if he was a Thief. Bilbo picked himself up from the floor and tucked himself into the corner of the room. It was a defense, Thorin could tell. He was making himself small.

"Who sent you into Erebor for the Arkenstone?" Thorin didn't believe for a second that it was personal. He'd never met a Hobbit in his life, and unless his relatives had done something to offend this boy, he could see no reason why a Hobbit would want the Heart of the Lonely Mountain. And yet, he'd been sent into Erebor for the King's Jewel, nearly succeeding.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I am here for perfectly legal reasons. And I wasn't stealing the Arkenstone, I was returning it." Thorin rolled his eyes. The boy was good. He wouldn't be incriminating himself, or anybody else. Even though they all knew he was in fact guilty. He wouldn't speak, at least not without some pressure being put on him.

"I have a friend, his name is Dwalin. He specializes is death. Quick death, long agonizing deaths. He also specializes in pain. If you do not start speaking, I'm afraid I will have to ask him to get information from you." Thorin doubted he could actually let anyone hurt the Hobbit, but he could threaten all day long. The fact was, the boy looked too frail and thin for his own good. The muscle he had noticed was not enough to hide the fact that he was malnourished and sleep deprived. It wouldn't be right to torture an already weak body like this.

"Boy Erebor is not as friendly as they say it is." Bilbo muttered, dropping his head back against the wall. The light of the torches lit up his face in such a way that Thorin lost his words for a moment. He was truly a fair boy, and Thorin felt a bit bad for him. Whatever circumstances led him to being in this position, they couldn't be good. They had put a deep shadow over his face, one that could be seen in the lack of smile lines and the darkness beneath his eyes.

"My Kingdom is just. As such, you will be punished for your crimes."

"What crimes? What have I stolen? Search me, I have not one gold coin on my body. And unless you can prove that I took the Arkenstone, and was not simply returning it, then this is all wrongful imprisonment and mistreatment of a stranger." Bilbo finally shouted, but managed to sound calm enough by the end of his tirade. Thorin scowled at him, recognizing the logic, but he was sure the Halfling was guilty.

"You will remain in these dungeons until you tell me what I wish to know." He growled before turning on his heel and leaving. The thick door to the dungeon slammed shut with all the noise and power of a catapult, leaving Bilbo completely alone.

OOOOO

Bilbo was having no luck with escaping. Dwarves knew the crafting of metal better than any other race on Middle Earth. It made sense that their dungeon would be foolproof. There were no faults, no warps in the frame, no gaps he could exploit. The only way out of his little prison would be with the key, and there were only two of those. Thorin held one, he held one of every key in Erebor. And the Master Lawkeeper held the other. Dwalin, Thorin's friendly neighborhood torturer, was in fact the enforcer of the law. But he had been a fierce warrior at one point in time, and Bilbo did not doubt that he had extensive knowledge of death and pain. Dwalin was the one who checked on him three times a day, to make sure he was still there.

"I thought you were supposed to torture me, not check on me." Bilbo called out after the fifth time Dwalin stood in front of his cell door. The Dwarf, who had been retreating back out of the dungeon, stopped instantly and turned back to him.

"I have neither orders nor the desire to torture yeh. Yeh would probably die before I could get any information." He spat, and Bilbo wasn't sure whether to be insulted or flattered. Dwalin left him in the silence of the dungeons again, and Bilbo sighed. He knew it was a destructive line of thought, but he couldn't help but think of his mother. How long would she last after the gold he left with her ran out? Not long. She could hardly sit up some days. She would have no way to make more money for herself, and no way to keep her health stable. The medicine and opiates that Bilbo gave her kept her alive. Not anywhere near healthy, but alive.

When Thorin strode into the dungeon he found his prisoner with his head in his hands, and his shoulders shaking ever so slightly. The Dwarf King didn't quite know what to make of the sight. The Thief had been so strong and self assured when Thorin had thrown him into his cell. It hadn't yet been two days, and he was not expecting to find the Hobbit weeping quietly. He stared silently at the boy before him for a good deal of minutes before he recovered from his shock and cleared his throat to announce his presence.

"What?" Bilbo's voice was muffled, because he couldn't be bothered to raise his head from his hands.

"Who do you weep for? Yourself or your employer?" Thorin spoke harshly, intent on using this opportunity to get some information.

"I'm not crying." Bilbo scoffed, raising his face at last. And it was true. His face was dry, and his eyes were only red from exhaustion. "I'm freezing." He snapped when Thorin looked confused. The Dwarf King finally took notice of the way it wasn't just his shoulders shaking, but his entire body. Inside the mountain it often felt like winter, even when it was summer outside. And in the winter, it could be hazardously cold. The dungeons were especially cold, with no insulation of any kind to help. Not to mention that the Thief was wearing thin, light clothes that would be useful when stealing, but terrible to keep his body warm.

Thorin never felt particularly charitable when dealing with criminals, and he was especially reluctant to help a Thief who would have vanished with the Arkenstone given half a chance. But he could get no information from the boy if he froze to death. With narrowed eyes he stalked off to collect a few blankets for his prisoner, in hopes that a bit of kindness would loosen his tongue. After Thorin knew what he needed to know, he could always take the blankets away. Criminals deserved no kindness, but potential informers could use a pinch of generosity.

"Here." Thorin thrust the blankets through the bars of the cell and they landed near the Thief. He'd brought three of them, all lined with the finest of furs and warmest of wools. Bilbo eyes him warily and then the blankets, but another shiver wracked his thin frame and he relented, pulling the closest blanket around his shoulders. He was probably unaware of the heart wrenching sigh of relief that escaped his lips at the slow warmth that the blanket brought him. But Thorin heard it all too clearly. "Anything else?" Thorin sounded bitterly sarcastic, but his request was genuine enough. He had to keep the boy alive, at least until he knew who he worked for.

"Some water would be appreciated." Thorin realized with a bit of guilt that he hadn't approved food and water for his newest prisoner. Dwalin hadn't mentioned anything about it, but he had seen the look his friend had given him just before Thorin entered the dungeon. At the time Thorin had brushed it off, but now he realized it was judgment. Thorin had fed even murderers in his dungeons, before their executions. And he had been withholding such necessities from this boy, for two days now.

The thought made him angry, but it was mostly anger with himself. He left the dungeon again, but this time he didn't return. Dwalin did, with a tray of porridge and a flask of water, but Thorin did not make a reappearance. Dwalin couldn't help but watch as the sole prisoner in Erebor desperately guzzled the water brought to him. But he only ate half the porridge offered to him.

"Aren't yeh hungry? I was told to bring yeh as much as yeh want." Dwalin stated when Bilbo pushed the tray back through the gap at the bottom of the cell door.

"I'm used to living without food. But if I could have more water, I would appreciate it." Dwalin was a bit confused by the manners of this Thief, but nodded gruffly anyways. He returned with a full water skin that Bilbo drained just as quickly as he had the flask. Dwalin would have to relay his findings to his King. He took the empty water skin and left to do just that. Inadvertently leaving the dungeon unsupervised and allowing two mischievous Dwarflings to slip inside.

"Hello." Bilbo was a surprised by the cheerful voice he heard, and he looked up faster than was probably called for. There were two young Dwarf boys sitting in front of his cell door, one with golden blond hair, and the other with dark chestnut brown hair. The brunette was younger than the blond, Bilbo could tell, but they both had the aura of mischief to them.

"Hello." Bilbo replied cautiously.

"I'm Fili. This is my brother Kili." The blond told him with a wide smile. "We've been waiting for Dwalin to wander off for ages!" He added.

"Are you really a Hobbit? Balin taught us about Halflings in our studies, but we never thought we'd actually see one." Kili stated boldly. "He said Hobbits don't usually leave the Shire. And that's a long ways away." He pointed out.

"Yes, well...most Hobbits don't leave the Shire." Bilbo admitted.

"Will you tell us about it?" Fili asked with big eyes.

"Yeah, what's it like there?" Kili's eyes had to be at east the size of saucers. Bilbo considered telling them to go away, but they were being so kind to him. And they looked honestly eager to hear about the Shire and Hobbits. Neither seemed to mind the fact that he was in a cell in the dungeons.

"Uh...the Shire is beautiful. There's green rolling hills and lovely little rivers. It's peaceful and full of light and color. But, like all cities, there's parts of it that are not as nice. The woods are cold and lonely and some winters are brutal." He explained, frowning a bit.

"What about the Hobbits? What are you like?" Fili asked, apparently unconcerned by the poorer side of the Shire.

"Oh, there are some Hobbits that are the sweetest beings on Middle Earth. They enjoy the finer things in life, like good food and a warm hearth and manners. And there are some Hobbits that prefer to gossip and take advantage of every situation, but for the most part, we're really a very peaceful race." Oh how he missed Hamfest and Daisy in this moment. They were the best Hobbits he every met, as well as Primula and Drogo. However he wouldn't miss the Sackville-Bagginses, even if he never got to get back at them.

"You must miss them." Kili cooed softly. "The good Hobbits, not the nasty ones. Why did you leave the Shire, it sounds wonderful?"

"Well, it's like I said...not all of it is so beautiful." Bilbo smiled, but it wasn't the warm smile that took over his face minutes ago as he talked about his home and friends.

"Uncle Thorin said that you tried to take the Arkenstone. But, we thought Hobbits weren't Thieves." Fili blurted out, and Bilbo looked at the two of them with big eyes.

"Your uncle is the King?" He squeaked. They nodded, blushing a bit. "You have to leave. If he finds you in here with me you could get in a lot of trouble." He urged desperately. The last thing he needed was to be yelled at by the king for trying to corrupt his nephews.

"Yes, you could be in terrible trouble." They all three froze as Thorin appeared from the open dungeon door. Thorin pointed his glare at his nephews, who scrambled away in perfect sync, calling apologies over their shoulders to their uncle, and surprisingly, to Bilbo as well. The Hobbit brought his knees to his chest, his defense mechanism coming out again, and he watched Thorin carefully as the intimidating King took the space of his nephews. "I was told you rejected the food given to you." He said bitterly.

"I couldn't eat all of it." Bilbo whispered back. He hadn't expected Thorin to sound offended by his inability to eat the whole bowl of porridge. "I'm sorry." He murmured when Thorin didn't stop glaring. It felt odd to apologize for such a thing. And indeed, his apology did earn him a raised eyebrow from the Dwarf King.

"I thought Hobbits ate proportionally larger meals than any other race, and more frequently than any other race as well." Thorin said suspiciously.

"It is as I told Dwalin. I am used to living without food." He said stubbornly.

"In the less lovely parts of the Shire, from what I understand." Bilbo didn't look at him. He knew Thorin had probably been listening to his words when he spoke to Fili and Kili. He meant to give nothing about himself, or his job, away. But Thorin was more clever than Bilbo initially thought. "Is that why you tried to take the Arkenstone? So you would not have to live in poverty and hunger?" Thorin bit when Bilbo remained silent. "Or perhaps you wanted to leave the Shire all together. The money you would get from trading the Arkenstone would certainly be enough to create a new life anywhere you chose."

"Like anyone would trade for the Arkenstone." He scoffed. "Isn't it holy to you Dwarves? Surely everyone in Middle Earth knows that."

"Then why were you stealing it?" Thorin practically yelled.

"I was not stealing the Arkenstone!" Bilbo denied just as fiercely. Thorin glared at him, and he glared right back, for a few long awkward minutes before the Dwarf King sneered and left. Bilbo was prepared to be alone for at least a few hours, and thus was surprised when a fat red haired Dwarf, who he remembered was Bombur, one of the four people he stole from in Dale, ambled into the dungeon with a plate of food about an hour later. "N-No please, I can't possibly eat-"

"You will eat every bite of this food." Thorin commanded, nodding to Bombur, who slid the food into the cell with a curious look at Bilbo. The red head left quickly, shutting the dungeon door behind him. "Go on then. This is the finest food in Erebor, made by the finest chef in the mountain. You will eat it or I will make you eat it." Bilbo opened his mouth to argue, but the key to his cell was in Thorin's hand before he could get a word out. "If I open this door, it will be to restrain you and feed you like a child. Go ahead, make me do it." He challenged. Bilbo swallowed heavily and gingerly scooted closer to the tray of food. He tried to stay as far away from the bars of the cell as possible, but when he tried to move the tray closer to him, Thorin's boot came down hard, stopping it from moving even an inch. "I don't think so. That tray doesn't move, you move."

"Why are you doing this?" Bilbo hissed, glaring hatefully at his captor.

"You are making my life extremely difficult. Do not expect kindness in return. I am keeping you alive for information, which means I actually need you to live. And that means you will eat." Thorin left no room for argument in his tone. Bilbo poured all the hate he was feeling into his glare as he very deliberately speared a piece of fruit on the fork given to him. After a few minutes Bilbo could no longer look at Thorin, mostly because he was starting to feel sick and he didn't want Thorin to see. He was sure that over the years of hunger that he had suffered through, his stomach had shrunk to a terribly small size, and he hadn't been lying when he said he couldn't possibly eat all the porridge he'd been given. Now he was faced with a plate packed full of food.

Bombur was truly a great chef, everything was delicious. But there was so much of it! Three kinds of meat and two servings of mashed potatoes, as well as a bowl of fruit and a bowl of vegetables. Bilbo was barely done with one of the meats, and a fourth of the potatoes and he already thought he might throw everything up. Thorin watched every bite, his presence like a dark cloud that was unflinching.

"Please...I can't eat any more..." Bilbo managed to keep his voice level, but didn't look up at the King. Which made it easy for Thorin to reach through the bars and grab Bilbo by his hair. Bilbo squealed in surprise and flailed as Thorin yanked him up against the bars. The king wrapped his other hand around the Thief's pale throat and waited for Bilbo to stop fighting.

"You will eat...every scrap. Am I understood?" He spoke quietly, but there was the deadliest of threats in his voice. Bilbo tried to calm the harsh beating of his heart, after all, he'd faced people much more dangerous and evil than Thorin Oakenshield. But for some reason, he was more scared now than he'd ever been. Thorin growled lightly and tightened his grip in Bilbo's hair. "I said, am I understood?" He practically shouted.

"I can't...eat...any more." Bilbo choked. Thorin narrowed his eyes to near slits before releasing his hold on the shaking Hobbit. Bilbo recoiled almost to the back of the cell. He hardly caught his breath before his heart jumped to his throat. Thorin unlocked the cell with no feeling on his face, slipping inside and slamming the door behind him. "No, please, I can't-"

"You will." Thorin rumbled advancing on Bilbo even as the Hobbit quivered in the corner. He grabbed Bilbo by the hair again and paid no attention to the short yelps of pain as he pulled the boy back towards the food. Bilbo struggled, ending up being half dragged, until Thorin let go of his hair. He had no time to skitter away, as Thorin pulled him up into a sitting position by grabbing his shirt collar and then pushed him back against the wall. The King carefully cut a bite sized piece of meat and held the fork in front of his pinned prisoners face.

"No." Bilbo shook his head. Thorin growled and cupped his hand around Bilbo's jaw, prying it open until he could shove the food in. He then covered Bilbo's mouth with his hand, making sure he didn't spit it out.

"Chew and swallow or I'll have you whipped." He growled, and he meant it. Bilbo knew he meant it. He willed his stomach to settle and managed to do as he was ordered. Though how long the food would stay down was an entirely different point. They continued like this until the plate was clear of meat, but Bilbo just knew he was going to be sick. Sure enough when Thorin brought a fork full of potatoes to his lips, rather than going down, his stomach heaved and projected all the food he'd eaten back up his throat and all down his front. Thorin jumped back, allowing Bilbo to double over to the side and proceed to empty his stomach of any and all food it had. And while that wasn't much, it was enough that Bilbo was weeping by the time he stopped retching. Thorin was glaring at him, and tossed the fork onto the tray with a loud clang.

"I-I'm sorry, but I tried to tell you-" Bilbo whispered, being cut off by Thorin yelling in Khuzdul. Bilbo didn't understand the word, but he imagined it was either a curse or an order to shut up.

"You don't want the food given to you? Fine. You shall receive none. Nor water." With that Thorin was out of the cell, the lock siding back into place once the door shut. The dungeon door sounded louder than usual as it slammed closed. In the ensuing silence the only sound was that of Bilbo Baggins softly crying as his stomach twisted and his nose suffered from the smell of vomit.

OOOOO

_AN: I felt really bad for Bilbo as I was writing this. But what did ya think? Leave a review, if you would be so kind, or if you have questions. I'll see you next week! Thanks for reading!_


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: Ollo! Welcome back! Here's more! Also, I don't know Hobbit measurements, so I just put little dashed in the place of numbers. Make up your version of Hobbit anatomy and fill in the blanks, 'kay? Enjoy!_

OOOOO

"Wakey wakey little Hobbit." Bilbo didn't want to wake up. And he certainly didn't want to wake up in the dungeons of Erebor again. He wanted to be home, with his mother. He wanted to have never come to Erebor in the first place. He was such a fool to accept the contract. If the Dwarves didn't kill him, he was sure Smaug would, even if the contract forbade it. He just hoped the dragon would leave his mother alone. Bilbo didn't think Smaug knew where Bilbo lived, though that could be easily remedied by asking any one of the numerous Hobbits in the Shire. Any one of them would be glad to share gossip about the poor Bagginses in their shack in the woods.

"Maybe he's sick. Should we get Oin?" A softer, younger voice asked nervously.

"Nah, he's not sick. Just tired. Rightfully so, I heard Thorin ordered Dwalin ta keep him awake for the last three days! But he passed out last night, and not even Dwalin could rouse him. It's been a few hours though, he should be coming back ta the land of the living." The first, loud and boisterous voice, proclaimed.

"Do you think you could keep your voice down?" Bilbo hissed. His head was throbbing. Three days of being denied sleep wasn't exactly new to the Hobbit, but every time he went more than 40 hours without rest, he got the worst headache.

"NOT REALLY!" The Dwarf yelled, and Bilbo jerked up. "Ah see, he's awake. Good mornin' master Hobbit. I'm Bofur and this here's Ori." He introduced himself and the smaller, red headed Dwarf next to him. Ori blushed and waved a little at Bilbo, and it was so cute, so normal, that Bilbo smiled and almost slipped.

"I'm Bi- I'm pleased to meet you." He froze and managed to think of something quick.

"Ah come on, master Hobbit. Yeh already started, might as well finish it. Or we could start guessin'. What do you think Ori? Bifford? Bisson? Bi...rou?" Bofur started spouting out ridiculous names that made Ori giggle, and Bilbo grimace.

"Okay! My name is Bilbo." He admitted with a frown.

"Bilbo! Now that's a grand name! I never woulda guessed. Would yeh Ori?" The red head giggled again and shook his head. "Well any who, we're here to get yer sizes. We're not really cloth makers, but the official tailor's busy at the moment. He sent us instead." Bofur explained, scratching his head beneath his hat before righting it.

"What do you need my sizes for?" Bilbo asked suspiciously, because he really couldn't imagine Thorin allowing him new clothes. Yes, he was currently naked from the waist up due to the disgusting condition of his puke covered tunic, but that was hardly Thorin's concern when he was the one who made Bilbo sick.

"Dwalin says he can practically hear yeh shivering at night. Yeh need the extra layer. And we can smell the mess on yer old tunic, and the floor, all the way in the hallway. Yeh need new clothes, and yer moving to the cell across the way so they can clean this one. I can't believe it took three days for Dwalin to convince Thorin. I bet if he'd just stuck the King's nose in here, Thorin woulda accepted in an instant." Bofur commented with a snort.

"Bofur, quiet. You know Thorin's in a bad mood, if he heard you talking like this-"

"I'm sure he will hear of it. Dwalin's listenin' ta everything we say. Well, come on then Bilbo. Stand up." He gestured for Bilbo to stand and approach the door. The Hobbit looked the two of them over intently before deciding that they were harmless. And even if they did mean him harm, what more could they do to him? He was already cut off from food, water, the sun, sleep. Frankly, at this point, a quick stab of a knife in his side would be a blessing.

If it weren't for the guilt of leaving his mother alone to fend for herself, he would be all for assassins in the form of replacement tailors. He wondered if Primula would continue helping Belladonna when the gold Bilbo left ran out. Or if Daisy and Hamfest would take her in, or find somewhere for her to go.

"Yer smaller than I thought yeh'd be." Bofur commented when he got a good look at Bilbo's bare chest and stomach. "Can see yer ribs. Yeh were starving before yeh got thrown in the dungeon, weren't yeh." He observed, reaching through the bars to wrap a tape measure around Bilbo's chest.

"I can't believe Thorin's not letting you eat." Ori whispered.

"I don't mind that so much. But I am lamenting the loss of water privileges." Ori gave him a curious look, obviously questioning why Bilbo wanted water rather than food.

"- inches." Bofur interjected before Bilbo could explain. Ori quickly scribbled the number down in the little journal he had brought with him. Bofur then moved on to Bilbo's stomach.

"So why do you prefer water?" Ori asked, when Bilbo stayed quiet.

"Bofur said it. I was starving before I came here, I'm used to that. The days I could afford food, I usually gave it away. But I've always had a lot of water. It settles the ache in my belly when I have to go without food." He explained.

"Why did you give away your food?" Ori asked, gently.

"There was someone who needed it more than I did." Bilbo smiled slightly. Ori opened his mouth to say something, but Bofur cut him off.

"- inches." He said, and Ori jotted that down as well. Bofur had Bilbo reach one arm out through the bars and wrapped the measuring tape around his bicep. "- inches." Bofur commented, then held the beginning of the tape at Bilbo's shoulder and measured the length of his arm.

"I never believed Balin when he said Hobbits were smaller than Dwarves. But you're no bigger than a teen Dwarf." Ori told him with a frown.

"I think he's even smaller than yeh Ori. If that were possible." Bofur said with a smirk. "- inches." Bofur moved the tape to measure the length of his abdomen, and then relayed the number before wrapping the tape up again. "All done. Dwalin'll be in later to move yeh. And I think Thorin's making Fili and Kili clean the cell, since he still hasn't punished them fer sneaking into the dungeons. So yeh'll have some conversational partners at least. We'll see yeh Bilbo." He smiled brightly and stuck his hand out. It took Bilbo longer than he was proud of to understand it was a handshake Bofur wanted. He shook the Dwarf's hand, and then Ori's as well, before they both left. Bilbo watched them go, his heart aching a little as they did.

Bofur and Ori, especially Ori, were kind to him. Like Fili and Kili had been. They were nothing like Thorin and Dwalin and the other Dwarf that regularly checked up on Bilbo, Nori. Bilbo doubted Dwalin knew Nori came into the dungeons. Nori was once a thief as well, but now he was the Mountain's Spy Master. He was only mean to Bilbo because he was jealous of his burglary skills. Apparently Thorin had commissioned Nori to try and steal the Arkenstone, to test their security, and the Dwarf hadn't even made it out of the Great Hall. The fact that Bilbo almost made it to the gate greatly irked the star haired Dwarf.

Eventually Bilbo tired of staring at the closed dungeon door and stumbled back to his little nest of blankets. At least Thorin hadn't taken those too. Well, he'd taken one of them. But Bilbo still had the other two, and it was a good thing. Without his tunic to keep him warm, Bilbo was sure he would die of frostbite before the hunger and thirst took him. He wrapped one of the blankets around his shoulders and curled into a tight ball on top of the other. He was just about to slip off into sleep when a deafening metallic clang filled the dungeon, echoing off of every stone surface and sounding impossibly loud to the poor Hobbit.

Bilbo cracked open his eyes to see Dwalin standing at his cell door, his sword in hand. It was what he usually did to keep Bilbo awake, or wake him from his sleep. He would hit his sword against the cell bars and the reverberating clang could probably rouse everyone in the mountain if there weren't walls in the way.

"Get up. Bilbo." Dwalin grinned when the Hobbit paled, more than usual. So he _had_ been listening earlier. Or Bofur had just told him his name. And if Dwalin knew, then Thorin knew. Fan-freaking-tastic. "Come on, hurry." Bilbo's whole body was stiff and sore from laying on the uncomfortable prison floor for almost a week now, as well as from the punishing cold, but he stood anyways. "Grab yer things, unless yeh wish to freeze." The bald and tattooed Dwarf suggested gruffly. Bilbo did as he said, gathering both his blankets in his arms and cautiously approaching the cell door. Dwalin unlocked it, immediately grabbing Bilbo by the back of his neck, before Bilbo could even think of running.

"Ow." Bilbo grunted, trying not to stumble as Dwalin yanked him the few feet to the opposite cell. The buff Dwarf snorted, unlocked the new cell door, and tossed Bilbo through much the same way Thorin had. But this time he had blankets to cushion his fall. "Are you ever going to kill me and be done with it?" He whispered, not expecting an answer. When he failed to hear the slam of a door, or anything really, he started to fear a little. He never knew what could set one of the Dwarves off, and he didn't want Dwalin to be the first one he managed to piss off so severely that he was hit.

Four soft, precise, footsteps made every muscle in his body tense. Fingers wrapped around his upper arm and he was pulled around to look up at Dwalin. The Dwarf was glaring down at him like he had personally insulted his whole family line. But his grip on Bilbo's arm was only firm, not painful. And he was not actively punching Bilbo in the face, so Bilbo supposed he might not be in as much trouble as he could have been. Had it been Thorin, he was sure he wouldn't be as kind.

"A word of advice Hobbit. Never say such things unless yeh mean them." The Dwarf practically growled at him.

"And if I do mean it? What other end can there be for me? Staying in this dungeon for the rest of my life? Starving on your King's orders? Let us not forget that I have admitted to no crime, and you have no evidence of my participation in said crime. And yet here I am. You tell me, what could be worse than wasting away, miserable and cold, because your King believes I am guilty? Certainly not a quick death." The Dwarf's face went from stony to surprised to a bit guilty before returning to stony.

"If yeh were not intending to steal the Arkenstone, why did yeh have it in your possession?" He demanded. Bilbo scoffed.

"I have already said what I was doing with it, and none of you believe me." Bilbo stared right into Dwalin's eyes, and after a few moment's, the Dwarf could no longer hold his gaze. "So I ask again. Are you ever going to kill me and end this?" Part of Bilbo was honestly hoping Dwalin would say yes. That he would unsheathe his sword now and plunge it into his heart. He wouldn't even scream. He would probably thank the Dwarf with his last breath. But the other part of him, the one that his mother depended on, was afraid to think of Dwalin, of any of them, killing him. But really, what was the possibility that he would ever see his mother again? Even if he was released, he would have to deal with Smaug. And the journey back, without the use of Smaug's wings, would take months, if not a year. By then she would definitely be out of gold, and in all probability, dead.

"No. We need information from yeh." Dwalin grunted, and Bilbo couldn't help but groan. He'd heard that so many times now. Information, information, information. It was all these Dwarves cared about. He was this close to just telling them what they wanted to know! As long as they left him alone for a little while. If they gave him water, and let him sleep.

"Please go away." Bilbo whispered, not looking at him. Dwalin hesitated for a few moments but released his arm and straightened himself. He really couldn't look at Bilbo for too long, especially with his chest bare like that. He was so frail, so small, and so deeply sad. The Dwarf closed the cell door, softer than he ever had before, and closed the dungeon door with just as much care. He was hardly surprised to find Thorin waiting for him in the hallway.

"What did he say?" The King asked.

"He asked me to kill him." Dwalin stated bluntly, and with bitterness prevalent in his tone. "What if he _is_ innocent? What if we're torturing the lad and it was never him who took the stone?" The bald Dwarf stared his King down, but Thorin didn't reply. He just held himself tall and walked away. For some reason, the thought of Bilbo asking Dwalin to kill him made Thorin angry. The thought of Bilbo dead, by anyone's hand, made him clench his teeth and growl. And he hated that the Hobbit had such an effect on him. Mahal, he'd only spoken to the creature twice, and the second time had ended with him making Bilbo sick! They were _hardly_ friends. So why did he get a urge to protect his prisoner from anyone who might do him harm.

Thorin's mood only darkened when his mind pointed out that _Thorin_ was the only one currently doing Bilbo harm.

OOOOO

"Hello Bilbo!" Kili said brightly when he and Fili arrived in the dungeon. They'd both been glad to learn his name from Dwalin, but Kili especially. However, the young raven haired Dwarf didn't receive and answer from Bilbo. He didn't even receive an acknowledgment. He was about to open his mouth and try again when a heavy hand gripped his shoulder.

"Let the lad sleep." Dwalin rumbled, steering the prince towards the smelly cell Bilbo had inhabited until today. Fili was grimacing as he observed the mostly died out sick that almost covered one corner of the cell.

"Thorin made him stay in here with this for three days?" Fili asked Dwalin, disgust on his face. Dwalin only set the bucket of warm water down and tossed the two sponges to the princes.

"Clean it. Do it quickly. Don't interact with the prisoner. That's what got yeh in trouble in the first place." He ordered, with a discreet fond smile, before turning back towards Bilbo's cell. The Hobbit was curled into a ball, the same way he always seemed to be, and faced away from the cell door. Dwalin wasn't sure if he was really asleep or not, but he wasn't going to bother him. Not when he'd made the lad stay awake for so long. Thorin had hoped that if they exhausted Bilbo, he might be more willing to talk. But the longer they refused him sleep, the stronger his will seemed to become. Dwalin almost admired him.

"Master Dwalin?" He turned to look at Kili, who was already scrubbing at the floor. The boys got into trouble a lot, but they also took the punishment for their trouble without complaining. It was one of the things Dwalin liked about them. "Why is uncle being so cruel to Bilbo? He's never been so mean to prisoners before." He asked innocently. Dwalin looked towards the door of the dungeons, where said uncle stood silently, keeping his presence a secret. Thorin quirked an eyebrow, but otherwise remained emotionless.

"King Thorin is trying to understand why Bilbo was stealing the Arkenstone." It sounded better than telling them he was subtly torturing Bilbo until he talked.

"Maybe if he was nice, Bilbo would tell him whatever he wanted to know." Kili suggested, gagging a little when he rung his sponge out and dipped it in the water again.

"Yeah, Nori tells us about this tactic that people use when interrogating people. He calls it Good Pig, Bad Pig. Where there's one Lawkeeper who's really mean to the prisoner, and one who's really nice. And he says it's usually the nice one that gets answers." Fili explained.

"Why does he call Lawkeepers Pigs?" Kili asked, again in a much too innocent voice.

"Because he wants to know what a night in a cell feels like." Dwalin muttered. "It's not up to us to judge yer uncle's actions. Keep cleaning." He said firmly, before either one could go on. They both grumbled, but did as he said. In fact, neither said anything else as they worked. But Dwalin was sure they were silently communicating in the way that only they seemed to be able to. Finally, after the floor was clean of the mess, Fili sighed and looked at Dwalin.

"What will happen to Bilbo when he _does_ tell Thorin why he was taking the stone?" He wondered, and Dwalin felt his stomach squeeze at the question. He had found himself wondering that as well. What did Thorin intend to do with Bilbo once he had his information? Was Bilbo correct in assuming the only end to this whole situation was his death? And why did that thought make Dwalin cringe?

"I don't know lad. Come on. I think yer mother is waiting for you." That put a kick in their step, as everyone in the mountain knew you didn't keep Lady Dis waiting. Thorin was no longer in the dungeon doorway, but Dwalin had no doubts that he would be back as soon as Fili and Kili were gone. He was losing his patience, and he was determined to get something from Bilbo. Dwalin shooed the boys away and waited. He wasn't disappointed, as Thorin appeared from around the corner within minutes. "He's asleep." Dwalin relayed the status of the prisoner, as he did every time Thorin walked by. Thorin hardly heard him.

"Find somewhere else to be for the next thirty minutes." The King ordered gruffly. Dwalin stared at Thorin for a long moment before nodding. He couldn't say no to the King, as hesitant as he was to leave Bilbo alone with Thorin. The last time the two of them were alone, Dwalin had checked in on Bilbo only to find his covered in puke and sobbing bitterly.

"Of course yer highness." Dwalin marched away, hoping for Bilbo's sake that Thorin wasn't in a particularly violent mood. Thorin watched his friend go before entering the dungeon and locking the door behind him. He was not leaving, and no one was entering, until he had something of substance from the Hobbit. Anything, but he would prefer the name of whoever hired the boy.

Bilbo appeared to be sleeping, but Thorin had the thought that he probably wasn't. He was probably silently listening to Fili and Kili just as the King had been. But he didn't move, even when the door to his cell was opened and then closed. Thorin walked over to the curled up body and nudged it with his foot. Bilbo did not acknowledge him, or the nudge. He held tight to his illusion of unconsciousness, for as long as possible.

"I know you are not asleep." Thorin's voice rumbled. Still there was nothing. Muttering a bit under his breath in Khuzdul, the Dwarf stooped and pulled the blanket free of Bilbo's small body. He wasn't completely prepared for the sight of a smooth, hairless chest and a few visible ribs. Nor was he prepared to see the dark bruising on Bilbo's knuckles, like he'd been hitting something. Most likely the wall. "Tell me the name of your employer." Thorin growled as soon as Bilbo's eyes snapped open. The Hobbit reached for the blanket in Thorin's hand, but the Dwarf pulled it out of his reach. "Tell me or you lose this one as well." He hissed. A flash of fear crossed Bilbo's face, but he settled it into his usual brave mask before Thorin could comment.

"I don't have an employer. I used to, but he's a farmer and he doesn't have me work during winter. There's nothing to do during winter." Bilbo said weakly. He reached for the blanket again only for Thorin to slap his hand away. The Dwarf was surprised by the yelp of pain Bilbo let loose at the slap, and he remembered the bruising. He felt a flash of regret for causing the boy pain, but it was gone within a moment.

"If you would just cooperate, I wouldn't have to punish you so severely. You must be tired of resisting what we both know is the truth. You are a Thief and you tried to steal the Arkenstone. You were _obviously_ contracted to steal it, as you appear to have more common sense than to believe you could do anything with the stone once out of the mountain. So tell me the name of your contractor and I could be persuaded to be kind." He thundered, and his pride soared when Bilbo cowered. It was only for a few moments, but Thorin relished them. But then Bilbo puffed out his chest, held his little nose high in the air and set his mouth in a firm line. It was more than a rejection, it was a challenge.

That was all it took for Thorin's last nerve to snap. His hand connected with jarring force against the Halflings cheek. The boy was caught off guard and couldn't stop his fall, his shoulder slamming hard into the unforgiving ground and his cheek stung fiercely. It felt like it was on fire. He had no time to recover, as Thorin grabbed him by his throat and pulled him up, until he was on his feet. The Dwarf pushed him back against the wall of the cell, leaving only a few scarce inches between the two of them as he glared down at his prisoner.

"I have run out of patience. Every person has a pressure point. I imagine that yours is in the Shire. No doubt it is the "someone who needs more" that you gave your few meals to. Oh yes, I heard about that. Everything that is said is brought back to me. I feel I have a fairly good picture of you Bilbo. You live in the Shire, but the ugly, bitter, unforgiving part of the Shire. You live in poverty and you live with someone, someone you love more than yourself. It shouldn't be too hard to discover just who that is. Hobbits do love to talk. Well, most of them do." He growled the last sentence, tightening his hold on Bilbo's neck. The Hobbit gasped, pulling in the limited amount of air he was still given at the moment.

"N-No!" He gasped.

"So I will give you one last choice. Tell me who hired you, or I will find the one person you love and I will see too it that you have nothing to live for." Bilbo was shaking in his hold, and his eyes were glassy with tears that he refused to shed in front of Thorin. But he really didn't have a choice. If it came down between his employer and his mother, he would never endanger his mother. Ever.

"Smaug." Bilbo choked after a moment. "My employer...is the Dragon Smaug." He closed his eyes, waiting for another blow, or maybe a knife in his stomach. But none came. Thorin didn't move at all. If not for the heavy, ragged, and angry breaths that ruffled Bilbo curls, Bilbo would wonder if Thorin was even still alive. He was unceremoniously dropped and the cell door clanged shut with a surprising force. If the impressive metal bars could vibrate, they would be now. Bilbo waited for the dungeon door to slam shut as well before he allowed the restrained tears to pour out of his eyes and down his cheeks, heavy sobs wracking his entire body along with the tears.

He'd never felt more wretched. He had never sold out a contractor. But, to be fair, he'd never been imprisoned or faced with someone like Thorin Oakenshield before. And the thought of Thorin sending someone after his mother...it made him sick to his stomach. He just felt all together terrible. He ached, he was starving and dying of thirst. His emotions were compromised and his mind felt like it was fighting a loosing battle. He felt like he was loosing the will to continue. The thought of Dwalin or Thorin killing him no longer sent a thrill of fear through him. He had already failed his mother. No matter what happened to him now, she was going to die.

Bilbo returned to his protective ball and let himself pour out all the tears that he'd been holding back for a week now. There was no telling how much longer he had, how much longer Thorin would tolerate him. Especially since he now knew that Bilbo had been working for Smaug. The greatest enemy of Erebor and Bilbo had followed his instruction. Bilbo imagined his execution would be a grand affair. Maybe they'd invite lords from the other Dwarf Kingdoms to come watch. It sure sounded like something they would do.

He wept until he fell asleep, truly this time. And he hoped that he didn't wake up.

OOOOO

_AN: What'd ya think? Review or leave a question, if you'd like. Thanks for reading! See ya next week!_


	5. Chapter 5

Balin had heard many things about the Thief in the dungeons. Dwalin spoke of him often. His brother regretted most of the things that Thorin ordered him to do. But the most recent order had Dwalin ranting half the night. Total isolation was a harsh ruling, especially for Hobbits. Balin knew the race better than most Dwarves. They were a social people, full of life and frivolity. They had very good ale, and even better pipe weed. To take away any kind of contact with any type of living thing...it was cruel beyond measure. But no one could really argue with Thorin, especially about prisoners.

Balin was sad for the Hobbit, though he knew he shouldn't be sympathetic with a thief. And he found himself thinking a lot about the little thief. He was constantly contemplating what had happened to bring Bilbo to those dungeons. Hobbits were of the more pleasant and diplomatic races of Middle Earth; calm, subdued and somewhat boring. To think that one of them had descended to the rank of a Thief was more than confusing, it was worrisome. Balin doubted he had ever heard of such a thing happening before. A Hobbit thief. It was truly a precarious situation. One he wanted to get to the bottom of.

He wanted to question little Bilbo, as Dwalin had taken to calling him during his rants, but he knew Thorin would not allow it. Unless he managed to sway the King. Just a little bit. Balin always did have a way with words, after all. It was with confidence that he asked Thorin for an audience with Bilbo. He convinced Thorin that he could get him more information from the Hobbit, and he did intend to get information. Dwalin had also told him of the Halflings love for water, so he came prepared with a full skin of it. It may be a low move, to use this against Bilbo, but everyone in the _company_ knew of the Hobbits stubbornness. Thorin and Dwalin both talked about that particular facet of his personality, quite often. He would get information, but he would also find out what he wanted to know about Bilbo.

"Evening brother." Balin smiled easily at Dwalin as he approached the dungeon. Dwalin did not smile back. His brother did not look good at all. In fact he looked more heavily burdened than he ever had. Even during their days in exile. "Bad day?" Balin guessed.

"He was screaming earlier. Every now and then I'll hear him speak, calling out for someone. Anyone. But this...this was different. So very different." Dwalin's voice was heavier than the mountain. Balin frowned, his pity divided between the obviously suffering Hobbit, and his obviously distressed brother. He hesitantly placed his hand on Dwalin's shoulder, unsure of whether his brother wanted his comfort or not.

"Go get some rest brother. Thorin gave me permission to talk to him." He half ordered and half pleaded. Dwalin nodded somewhat numbly and stumbled off in the other direction. Balin sighed as he watched him go, and then held himself high once again. He opened the door of the dungeon and closed it behind him. The little burglar was in the very last cell. Curled into himself and rocking back and forth lightly. Balin was a bit shocked at what he saw.

He had met Hobbits before. They were fat and merry never seemed to stop smiling, unless it was to glower at something that was different. This boy was practically skin and bones. His hair was dirty and matted, and his knuckles were a bloody mess. He didn't hear Balin approach, but he saw him when he came the bars of the cell, and his head snapped up faster than Balin had seen before. The Hobbit whimpered and shrank further in on himself, if that were possible. He didn't know if Balin was friend or foe, but given the place he resided, he could only guess foe at first glance. Balin tried to smile and disarm the boy, but he only shrank more.

"Easy. I'm not here to harm ya." He promised, easing himself down to sit cross legged outside the bars of the cell. "My name is Balin." He saw dull recognition in those wide blue eyes, and smiled carefully again.

"You teach Fili and Kili and Ori." The Hobbit ventured, and his voice was so quiet. He sounded like his throat ached terribly. And Balin supposed it probably did if he had gone so long without water, as well as the screaming earlier.

"Yes, among others." He confirmed.

"W-What do you want?" Bilbo asked nervously.

"I want to know how a Hobbit ended up in the dungeons of Erebor." Balin said plainly. Bilbo flinched and looked down. "How did ya come to be a Thief Bilbo?"

"Why does it matter?" Bilbo sighed dejectedly.

"Oh, it's mostly personal curiosity. I've met a few Hobbits before and I never imagined one becoming a prisoner in a far away land." Bilbo looked up shyly.

"You've m-met Hobbits?" He asked softly.

"Oh yes. I've met members of the Brandybuck family, the Proudfoot family, and the Took family." Bilbo flinched at the last one. "Are ya a Took?" Balin immediately inquired.

"Half Took. But my father was a Baggins, and I am a Baggins." He relinquished after a moment. "Though I'm hardly making them proud. I imagine they would love it if I called myself a Took instead." He added with a cringe. Balin couldn't help but cringe as well. Bilbo sounded so...resigned. So tired.

"Bilbo Baggins, eh? It's a good name. But why did Bilbo Baggins become a Thief?" He tried again, but Bilbo just shook his head. Evidently he _was_ a little stubborn. "Well, can I ask a different question then?" Bilbo nodded, though he didn't look excited. "Why did ya do it lad? Why take the contract of a Dragon to steal a gem that is impossible to steal? Though I give ya credit for getting so far with it." The old white haired Dwarf laughed a bit. Bilbo didn't laugh. Balin thought now would be a good time to play dirty. He pulled the water skin from his belt and took a long drink from it. Bilbo swallowed dryly, eyes glued to the water skin and the dribble of liquid that escaped the cap after Balin finished drinking. He whined lightly when Balin took another drink.

"Like you would believe me anyway." Bilbo whispered miserably. Balin knew his decision to bring water was a good one. This may be easier than he thought, though his conscious was pitching a fit at him for torturing the lad in this way.

"How about we make a trade. Ya tell me why ya came here, and I give ya water. Ya must be dying of thirst." He bargained, ignoring the part of him that was reprimanding him for being cruel. Bilbo looked at him for a long moment, then the water skin, and swallowed again. His throat ached and his head hurt from the dehydration. The screaming from earlier had only made it worse. It had to have been more than a week now since he'd had food, and three days since Dwalin had left him a skin of water (secretly of course) and he needed the water in Balin's hand. He would do anything for it.

"He promised me one tenth of the treasury. In exchange for the stone." Bilbo admitted.

"A tenth eh. That's a lot of gold. And that's the only reason ya took the contract?" The way Bilbo squeezed in on himself even more told Balin that it wasn't. And he already knew that Bilbo had someone he loved in the Shire. He'd heard Thorin talking to Dwalin about it. "Is it a child, or a wife?" Bilbo looked at him with confusion. "Ya took the job, regardless of knowing ya'd probably fail, because the offer of reward was so great. But ya only want the reward to help someone close to ya. Someone ya love." Balin said firmly, watching the Hobbit carefully. He was surprised to see fat tears rolling down his face within seconds of him speaking.

"I failed her. I told her I would take care of her and I failed and now she's going to die." He cried weakly, and Balin felt his heart squeeze in his chest. He didn't let it show on his face though.

"Go on lad. Tell me." He encouraged, passing the water skin through the bars. The burglar downed every drop in the skin within a minute, and laid his head back against the wall of his cell, looking exhausted. "I can bring more water, if ya tell me." Balin prompted. Bilbo sat, cursing himself, for a moment before closing his eyes.

"My mother. She's very sick, she's been sick for years. That's why I started thieving. It was always for her. When...Smaug...offered me this contract, I initially said no. But, that much gold could buy my mother the cure to her illness over a thousand times. It could buy her a real house so she doesn't have to live in that disgusting shack. It could make her happy again, with fancy clothes and books and enough food to actually eat all the meals in a day!" The Hobbit was sobbing again. "I knew I would probably fail. But I hoped I would not. I hoped I would be able to give my mother what she deserves." Balin listened intently the entire time, ignoring his aching chest. It wasn't really fair to Bilbo. It was Smaug who should be in the dungeon.

"That's...quite a story lad." Balin finally spoke. Bilbo snorted a bit.

"You don't believe me. I knew you wouldn't." The Hobbit looked at him for a moment before curling into a ball with his back facing Balin. He didn't care if the older Dwarf brought him more water. He was exhausted and he needed sleep. The total isolation he'd suffered for days now had left him restless and no matter how tired he was, he could not sleep. He thought he could sleep now. Maybe soon his hunger and thirst would kill him. He wondered if his mother would be waiting for him, or if he would wait for her for a while before she passed. He had tried so hard to save her. To restore her from her sickness and make her happy again. All for nothing.

Balin watched the Hobbit for a moment before leaving the dungeon. He went straight to the King's study, the guards opening the doors for him without him saying a word. Thorin looked up from whatever document he was studying and immediately saw the troubled look on his old friend's face. He gestured for Balin to sit in the chair across from his, and his adviser did as he was bid. Thorin didn't think he could remember ever seeing Balin look quite so...defeated.

"Did the Thief talk?" Thorin asked, putting the document down to pay full attention to Balin.

"He did. Smaug offered a reward of one tenth of the treasury in exchange for the Arkenstone." Balin told him, and Thorin could just hear the anger in his voice. "I think we should let Bilbo go." Balin stated before Thorin could ask what was troubling him. Thorin could only stare at his adviser like he'd grown a second head.

"Why on Middle Earth would I release a Thief who tried to take the Arkenstone?" He demanded. Balin sighed, he'd been expecting such a response. There was more between Thorin and Bilbo than any of them knew. The few times the King and the Thief had been alone together had always ended badly. Thorin hardly ever let people see how he was feeling, and the fact that the Burglar could get under his skin so efficiently was no laughing matter. There was something about Bilbo that seriously disheveled Thorin.

"We both know it isn't his fault, it was Smaug that sent him in here."

"And when we find Smaug, he can join the thief in the dungeon." Thorin snapped.

"Thorin. Bilbo did what he did for his mother. To save her life. Think my boy, what would you not do for your family?" Thorin had no answer for him. He had been wondering just who Bilbo was protecting. Who he had admitted his crimes for. His mother. "He is convinced that his mother will die without him. We know he is a Halfling, which means she must be within the Shire, waiting for him to come home. If you will not release him, the least you can do is save her life as he was trying to do." Thorin avoided the eyes of his adviser for a few moments, but sighed in defeat once he saw the look on Balin's face.

"I will send Dori and a few others to search for her. But I promise nothing. He may very well have lied to you, she may not even exist." Thorin pointed out.

"You did not hear the pain in his voice as he spoke of failing her." Balin said instantly. "There is a love you cannot fake when it comes to family." Balin spoke solemnly before standing. "Goodnight your Majesty." He bowed at his waist and left Thorin alone. The King sat thinking for a few long moments before deciding he would have no peace of mind until he saw Bilbo. It had been almost five days since he had forced the name 'Smaug' from Bilbo's lips, and his stomach had still not unclenched. There had been so much fear, _terror_, on Bilbo's face on that day. In that moment when Thorin had threatened the life of his mother, Bilbo had looked more frightened than anyone should be able to look. And there was no denying that he felt guilt for what he did.

Thorin met with no one as he walked towards the dungeons. He wasn't surprised to find Dwalin absent from the impressive door. No doubt Balin had sent his brother off to bed when he'd entered earlier. Dwalin deserved the reprieve. Every time he reported to Thorin, he looked a bit heavier. A bit more tired. And when he had delivered the news of Bilbo's screaming to Thorin, he had looked ready to be sick. Apparently Thorin was not the only one effected by Bilbo.

The Hobbit had not moved since Balin had left. Thorin wondered if he had moved since the King left him five days ago. He looked to be in exactly the same position. Thorin felt another pang of guilt at the realization that Bilbo still did not have his new shirt. The King was fairly sure he ordered the tailor to forgo making that. But that guilt was nothing compared to the fury he felt when he caught sight of the Hobbits butchered knuckles. What did he really expect though? He'd left the boy totally alone for five days. He shouldn't have hoped that the screaming was the only problem that isolation had reaped.

Thorin hardly realized he was heading towards the infirmary until he arrived, much to the surprise of Oin. The King avoided the infirmary at all cost, constantly maintaining that he was in perfect health and needed no mothering from half deaf Dwarfs. He said nothing, simply gestured for Oin to follow him and walked out. Oin grabbed his Med Bag and dashed out after the King, a bit worried.

"Your highness, is something wrong? Has someone been hurt?" Oin asked cautiously as he half ran to keep up with his King.

"Yes." Thorin grunted simply. He gave no other answer, and Oin didn't pry for one. When they reached the dungeon, realization crept to him. He'd also heard stories about Bilbo. Bofur, Ori, Fili, and Kili talked about him like he was a sweet boy. Dwalin usually cursed himself for hurting the lad. And every now and then he heard Thorin muttering to himself bitterly about the Halfling. For that reason, Oin worried about what he would find in the dungeon. How hurt was the lad?

Thorin opened the dungeon door silently and led Oin to the very last cell, opening that door and gesturing to the small prisoner within. Oin's shrewd eyes examined Bilbo's body as he cautiously stepped forward, lingering on the bloody knuckles. The gray haired healer knelt next to Bilbo's stubbornly still body and he put his hand gently on the boy's shoulder. The reaction he got from one small touch was like a dam bursting. The Halfling screamed, half conscious and half awake, and completely terrified of whoever was touching him.

"No no, shhh, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm a healer, I'm here to help." Oin rushed to sooth the frantic boy. He squeezed the thin shoulder lightly and Bilbo's eyes popped open, full consciousness rushing to him as he looked up at a new face. He whimpered, but Oin made calming murmurs as he gently talked Bilbo into laying on his back. "I'm a healer. I'm going to bandage your hands, and whatever other aches you have." He smiled reassuringly, and Bilbo nodded after a long moment. He watched curiously as Oin washed his knuckles before spreading some white gooey stuff over them and wrapping them in bandages.

"Who are you?" Bilbo asked at long length, his voice cracked and small.

"My name is Oin. And as I've said, I'm a healer." He said warmly. "Are you hurting anywhere else?" He asked, glancing worriedly at the bruises on Bilbo's cheek and shoulder. Bilbo followed his eyes and flinched, but shook his head.

"I-I'm fine." He lied softly. Oin started to put away his remaining bandages and ointment, and Bilbo panicked. "Please don't leave! Please!" Bilbo begged, grabbing Oin's hand to stop him. The healer was startled by the desperation in Bilbo's voice and he slowly eased Bilbo's hands off of his. But he held the bandaged hands in his own, the small touch seeming to sooth the boy.

"I won't. It's okay. You're okay." He said gently. Bilbo sniffled and drew his knees up to his chest, but he looked lighter than he did when Oin entered the cell. "How long have you been alone in here?" Oin wondered worriedly. Bilbo looked up at him with wet eyes.

"I don't know. I can't tell whether it's day or night, I have no idea how long it's been. But it feels like it's been weeks. Balin came in to talk to me earlier, but all he wanted was information. C-Can we talk about something? Something nice?" Bilbo asked hopefully. Oin tried to smile as warmly as he could and nodded.

"Well sure we can. What would you like to talk about?" Bilbo bit his lip and thought for a moment before brightening.

"Herbs! Can we talk about herbs? When my father was alive, he taught me all about them. We had a garden and he would sit me on his knee and point to the different ones and tell me what they did. But...I haven't talked about herbs with anyone in years." Bilbo explained, happily at first, and then more somber. Oin patted his knee consolingly and nodded.

"Herbs it is. Let's see, what might be grown here that you would know about?" They proceeded to talk for the better part of an hour before Bilbo slumped over into sleep. Oin eased the boy down onto his blankets and wrapped one around him snugly. He smiled one more time at the peaceful look on Bilbo's face and stood to go. He was hardly surprised to see that Thorin was still lurking just outside Bilbo's cell, pressed against the wall where he could hear what was happening but not see it. He glanced up as Oin emerged form the cell and nodded in acknowledgment. Oin patted his King's shoulder before shuffling away.

Thorin waited for Oin to be long gone before quietly walking into Bilbo's cell. He knelt down next to the sleeping boy and ran his fingers through the golden curls on his head. They were a little matted and greasy, but still beautiful. He pulled Bilbo's blanket down just enough so he could see the still dark bruise from when he'd hit Bilbo, and the one where the boy had landed hard on the ground. He clenched his teeth, angry with himself for putting a mark on this small boy, and pulled the blanket back up. Bilbo's cheek, and the ugly bruise on it, screamed at him, accusing him in the silence. This was his fault. Everything that was hurting Bilbo was his fault. He couldn't stand it anymore and stood to leave. He closed the cell door gently and looked up at the Hobbit one more time.

"I'm sorry." He whispered before disappearing from the dungeon. Bilbo murmured and turned in his sleep, but didn't wake. He was far too tired to wake.

OOOOO

Thorin was surprised to find Bilbo already awake when he walked into the dungeon the next morning. The Hobbit was drawing invisible pictures on the ground in front of him and he didn't look up when Thorin stopped in front of his cell. Thorin wondered how he knew it was him, and not one of the Dwarves that Bilbo _did_ like. But somehow he wasn't surprised about it either.

"Bilbo." Thorin called, trying to get the Hobbit to look at him, but Bilbo only hummed in reply, his finger gracefully skimming over the stone floor, making what could have been a tree in his imagination. "I wish to apologize." Bilbo's hand stilled, his whole body motionless, but he still didn't look up. Thorin couldn't really blame him. "My behavior has been abominable. You are my prisoner but that does not give me an excuse to abuse you." It must have been the honest regret in his tone, or the little crack in his voice when he said 'abuse'. But whatever it was, Bilbo was finally looking at him.

Impossibly big blue eyes peeked up at the King through golden curls and stared into his own sapphire eyes. Bilbo appeared to be searching, trying to find a hint that this was just a trick, just another way to manipulate him. His bruised cheeks looked so dark in the torch light, it made Thorin's heart squeeze, and his flinch must have been the last thing Bilbo needed to see. The Hobbit's eyes lost their hardness and he relaxed completely. Thorin hadn't even realized that Bilbo was tensed up, but now it seemed so obvious.

"Would you like to bathe?" Thorin asked, as gently as he could. Bilbo's hair was getting pretty mangy. And his skin was tainted with dirt and sweat. The Hobbit narrowed his eyes suspiciously for a moment before seeming to accept that the offer was genuine, and he nodded. "I shall have Dwalin escort you to the bath chambers." Thorin said with a small nod before turning and leaving. He was just about to touch the door handle when Bilbo spoke.

"Thorin." The Dwarf King froze and it took him a few seconds to recover. Bilbo had never said his name before. And while it _was_ said with no emotion, it was still surprising. Thorin slowly made his way back to Bilbo's cell, the Hobbit now standing pressed against the bars of the cell. "A-Are you going to let me die? In this cell? Now that you know what you want, you have no use for me." The Hobbit tried not to sound scared, but his eyes were screaming with fear and anxiety. Thorin couldn't help but to reach forward, slowly running his fingers down Bilbo's unbruised cheek. Surprisingly, the Hobbit let him.

"No. I'm not going to let you die. And I'm not going to kill you." The King stated firmly.

"T-Then what will become of me?" Bilbo choked out. Thorin's motions stopped, and he realized with horror, that he hadn't thought of Bilbo's future. The people would want him imprisoned or killed. His nephews wanted Bilbo to stay. So did Ori and Bofur and Oin, and even Dwalin. He could tell. Even though they didn't say anything out loud, they were all very curious and strangely protective of the boy. Especially Dwalin, who just _barely_ allowed the King into the dungeons when he approached it this morning.

"I do not know." He admitted, and Bilbo shrank away from him. "I will discuss the matter with my counsel." Thorin promised, but that didn't seem to improve Bilbo's now sullen mood at all. Thorin opened his mouth to say something more, but no words came to his tongue. Instead he just gave Bilbo a small nod and walked out of the dungeon. All the way this time. He gave Dwalin his order to take Bilbo to the bath chambers and walked away. He had to summon his counsel.

OOOOO

_AN: Finally! Thorin isn't such a dick anymore! I can't promise he'll stay this way...but who knows? Feel free to leave a comment or question! Thank you for reading, see ya in a week! _


	6. Chapter 6

Dwalin couldn't help the little ache he felt in his chest at the awe on Bilbo's face. The bath chambers were far from the most luxurious parts of Erebor, but Bilbo was visibly amazed by them. He looked so small, so young, as he looked around. Dwalin wanted nothing more than to treat him like a little Dwarfling, coddle him and make sure nothing ever hurt him. But he did have an appearance to keep up, as well as orders from Thorin.

"Over here." He grunted, pointing to one of the subterranean tubs that was constantly filled with steamy water from the underground spring in the mountain. Bilbo looked nervous as he stopped at the side of the depression in the floor, glancing from Dwalin then down at him himself. He looked hesitant to take off his trousers, the only piece of clothing he had left, but he obviously wanted to get in the tub. "Don't be shy, Hobbit." Dwalin said gruffly and pointed again at the tub.

"I don't like being naked in front of people." Bilbo murmured with a blush. In specific, he remembered the feeling of Smaug's eyes on him while he changed clothes during their brief traveling. It still gave him a little shudder.

"Just get in the tub." Dwalin said with a roll of his eyes. Bilbo kept his eyes firmly away from Dwalin as he slid out of his trousers. The second they were off his body, Bilbo was scurrying into the heated water, a low hiss escaping between his teeth from the temperature. He got used to it fairly quickly though and relaxed against the side of the tub with a small smile on his face. Dwalin couldn't help but smile as well.

"A-Are you gonna stay here the whole time?" Bilbo asked nervously.

"Orders are orders." Dwalin shrugged, sitting down against a pillar. He amused himself by looking at the carvings on the ceiling of the bath house. He had never noticed them before. Some of them were...a little raunchy. But what could he really expect from Dwarves?

"Thank you." Bilbo whispered some time later. Dwalin looked at him curiously. "I know it was you. Who left the water skin in my cell." Bilbo told him shyly. Dwalin gave away nothing in his face, but his eyes sparkled a little bit. He nodded, in recognition of Bilbo's thanks, but said nothing. "What do you think will happen to me?" Bilbo asked a few minutes later. Dwalin sighed and rubbed at the back of his head.

"Dunno. But, since yer the only one who knows what Smaug looks like, Thorin'll probably petition to keep yeh alive, so yeh can identify him. As well, since yeh...cooperated...with giving information, he'll probably petition to give yeh an actual room. Yeh won't be able to leave Erebor at all, and ye'll always have a guard nearby to make sure yeh don't try to escape. But it's better than the dungeon." It was the most logical probability. Bilbo didn't look relieved though.

"I'll never see my mother again." He whispered, curling his knees up to his chest. Dwalin felt a stab to his gut at the forlorn tone, and he couldn't help but spill what he knew.

"Thorin sent a few Dwarves to the Shire." Bilbo's reaction was not one Dwalin had been hoping for. The Hobbit's head shot up and his eyes were wider than a deer being hunted.

"W-What?! H-He sent men after my mother?!" Bilbo exclaimed, and he would have probably stood up if not for the fact that he was still naked. Dwalin rushed to reassure him.

"No, no, no! Bilbo, he's not going to hurt her! He sent them with gold, to buy her cure! After Balin told him about her sickness and how yeh only took the contract to cure it, they decided it was the least he could do. Since without yeh she'll die." Dwalin explained, and Bilbo slowly lost the tension in his shoulder. He didn't look completely convinced however. "They might even bring her back to Erebor." Dwalin mentioned.

"She can't travel. She's too weak." Bilbo pointed out.

"Well, not right away. Speaking of the subject, Balin wants to talk to yeh later, specifically about her illness. Dori and his men are already headed to the Shire, but we can always send a raven with whatever yeh need to tell them about it. Symptoms and the name of the cure and so on." Bilbo nodded softly. "She'll be okay Bilbo." Dwalin said softly. Bilbo didn't reply.

Bilbo spent a long time just enjoying the warmth of his bath, and luxuriating in the feeling of being clean again. But after a while, Dwalin started to get bored. Bilbo hurried to finish washing himself before sluggishly climbing out of the tub and wrapping one of the thick towels around himself. He reached for his trousers, but Dwalin stopped him.

"Yeh just got clean. Thorin was supposed to be sending replacement trousers and a tunic." Dwalin explained.

"Well, what am I supposed to do? Walk around in a towel?" Bilbo asked sarcastically. When Dwalin didn't reply, Bilbo's face lit up like a fire. "No."

"It shouldn't be too long. Just pick somewhere yeh wanna go and yeh can wait for them there." Bilbo recoiled a little. Dwalin wasn't going to take him back to his cell? He was giving Bilbo a choice of where he could go? The Dwarf must have sensed the hesitance and disbelief in Bilbo because he sighed. "Look, Thorin is trying to make it up to yeh, for being an ass. He knows it's not really yer fault, any of this. So he told me I could take yeh anywhere yeh want." Dwalin admitted, and Bilbo slowly let himself smile. It surprised Dwalin. Bilbo looked good when he smiled. He wouldn't mind seeing that smile more often.

"Uh...is there a library?" Bilbo asked, shyly.

"Oh course there's a library. Ori works there." Dwalin said proudly. He led Bilbo towards the door and just before they reached them, the doors swung open. Bofur appeared with a pile of folded clothes, and laughed at the surprised look on the bald Dwarf's face.

"Did I scare yeh Dwalin?" He asked, still laughing a little. Bilbo chuckled too and Bofur's eyes went to the Hobbit. He smiled, big and warmly, and tossed the clothes at Dwalin so he could pull Bilbo into a big hug. Bilbo jumped at the enthusiastic reception. "It's so good ta see yeh outta that cell!" Bofur told him happily. He noticed Bilbo's apprehension to being hugged and laughed again. "Sorry. I'm a hugger." He said with another bright smile.

"No, it's fine. I'm just...not used to it." Bilbo murmured softly. Bofur's grin slipped a little and he looked at Dwalin for some kind of interruption, something to ease the awkwardness in the air.

"Here Bilbo." Dwalin offered Bilbo the clothes, and the Hobbit brightened.

"Be right back." Bilbo promised, dashing behind a pillar to change. Bofur chuckled fondly.

"He has a way of wormin' himself into yer heart, doesn't he?" Bofur mentioned quietly to Dwalin. The bald Dwarf murmured something that sounded like an agreement. "Oh yeh can act as big an tough as yeh want, but I see right through yer facade, master Dwalin." Bofur said dramatically. Dwalin rolled his eyes, but if he was actively trying to restrain a smile, neither of them mentioned it. Bilbo reappeared, dressed in the slightly too big pants and the ridiculously big tunic and Bofur had to bite his fist to keep from bursting out into big laughs.

"What?" Bilbo asked, oh so innocently.

"Yeh look like a Dwarfling!" Bofur sputtered, giving into his suppressed laughs. "Just wait till Thorin sees yeh!" He added when he caught enough of a breath to speak. Even Dwalin chuckled at that. The bald Dwarf looked down at himself and untied a long piece of leather from around his waist. It was supposed to keep his purse on his hip, but he didn't need it in the mountain. Instead he gave it to Bilbo to use as a belt. The Hobbit thanked him and tied the leather around his hip, making the tunic look less like a dress and keeping the trousers up better. He still looked so very young in the ensemble, not to mention his sopping wet curls made him look like a drowned rat. It was all so...adorable.

"So, library then?" Bilbo asked, still a little hesitantly. Like he was expecting it to be a trick and any moment now Thorin would jump out of nowhere, declare him a traitor and a thief, and chop off his head.

"This way." Dwalin grumbled and started leading the Hobbit. Bofur tagged along, _without an invitation_ Dwalin thought bitterly, and started chatting about idle little things with Bilbo. But Bilbo appeared to like the mindless talk. It was better than talking about his life as a thief, or his contract with Smaug. They talked the entire way to the library. And when Dwalin opened the big doors for Bilbo, that look of awe returned in full force and the Hobbit stopped dead in his tracks for probably a full minute just to gape.

"People talk about Erebor all over Middle Earth, but it's usually about treasure and trade and stuff. No one ever talks about how amazing the library is." Bilbo breathed when Bofur asked what was the matter. "This is wonderful!" He added, and then ran off like an excited fauntling. Bofur and Dwalin exchanged fond smiles before Bofur took off after Bilbo and Dwalin wandered over to talk to Ori. And no. He was not flirting. No matter what Thorin and Balin said.

Several hours later when Thorin entered the library looking for his best friend and his Hobbit "prisoner" he found something of a confusing scene. Dwalin was mooning over Ori, no surprise, but Bilbo was sitting comfortably in the only window sill in the library, Bofur sprawled out next to him as he listened to Bilbo read aloud. The small smile on the Hobbit's face, as well as the amusing sight of him practically swimming in Dwarf clothes, made Thorin smile before he could catch himself. Bilbo looked...happy. He looked like he belonged here amongst books and with friendly Dwarves. For a second, Thorin wished it could stay this way.

Thorin also took note of the numerous water skins and bowls surrounding Bofur and Bilbo and felt a wave of relief that Bilbo had gotten a meal and some water. The Hobbit really was much too thin. But this time, Thorin would not force him to eat. But he would try and encourage it. Some deliberately big portions would probably be a good enough effort.

Bilbo glanced up as he was turning a page and caught sight of Thorin standing in the library doorway. His reading ceased and he looked fearful, like he was about to get in trouble. And Thorin felt the oddest urge to rush to sooth him.

"Thorin! The counsel is out already?" Dwalin called from the bench where he was sitting with Ori. The scribe waved shyly and meandered away, Dwalin's eyes following him.

"Well, none of them wanted to discuss the subject for very long, not with the Winter Festival coming up. More important matters and all." Thorin rolled his eyes and Dwalin grinned a little. "Master Baggins, if you'll come with me." Bilbo jumped and looked from Dwalin to Bofur a few times before shutting the big book in his lap.

"I'll take it back ta the shelve Bilbo. Maybe we can read more later." Bofur proposed hopefully. And the smile that lit Bilbo's face made Thorin feel at once warm and fuzzy inside. As well, it immediately lit the fire of jealousy in his stomach. Why was Bilbo smiling like that at _Bofur_?

"I'd like that." Bilbo agreed. Bofur reached down to help the Hobbit up and when Bilbo was on his feet, the hatted Dwarf wandered away towards the shelves, after a little salute towards Thorin. If Thorin could only manage to glower in return, no one even thought of mentioning it. Bilbo cautiously walked over to Thorin, his head bowed and his eyes on his feet. He looked even smaller now, in the oversized clothes. Thorin shuddered to think he'd actually hit this boy. "So, you decided what will happen to me?" Bilbo asked quietly, shocking Thorin out of his reverie. The Dwarf King cleared his throat and nodded.

"You're considered my personal prisoner and informant and you will reside in an antechamber off my rooms, so I can keep an eye on you. Dwalin is now your official guard, he will shadow you everywhere you go. When we bring a suspect in for questioning, you will tell me if it is Smaug or not. And when he is dealt with, you will be granted a pardon for your crimes, on the grounds that you helped apprehend a dangerous criminal and beast. But you will not be allowed to leave Erebor. Ever." Bilbo swallowed thickly and ducked his head again, biting his bottom lip. _Never_ leaving Erebor? For the rest of his life? He didn't know if he could do that! But, he supposed, it was better than death or imprisonment in that horrible cell. "I'll take you to your room for the night. Nori already has a suspect that he's bringing in tomorrow, so you'll have to get up early." Thorin said definitively.

"Of course." Bilbo agreed, though his voice was small. Thorin nodded, at a loss for words, and turned to lead Bilbo out of the library. The Hobbit followed in remarkable obedience, but Thorin still made sure he kept an eye on Bilbo at all times. It wouldn't do for Bilbo to try and run. Thorin would have to do something about it, and he didn't want to punish the Hobbit. Not after everything he'd already done to Bilbo. But Bilbo didn't try to run, he simply kept his eyes on his feet and followed the Dwarf King through the seemingly never ending halls of Erebor. Finally Thorin stopped in front of a beautifully crafted door which he pushed open without preamble.

Inside the door was a sitting room. Couches, fireplace, lounge tables, the whole deal. And it wasn't some low quality sitting room. Everything was made from the finest stone and inlaid with the most dazzling jewels. There were four doors leading off of the sitting room, two to the left and two to the right. Thorin wasted no time, he pointed to the first door on the left and started explaining.

"That's my room. You do not enter it, unless asked specifically by me to do so. The room next to it is my bathroom. You have your own connected to your room, but if for some reason you need to use mine, you may. Those two rooms are both antechambers, I don't care which you pick, but they're both the same so it doesn't really matter. I will unlock your room when the sun rises in the morning and I expect you to be back in your room, at the latest, five hours after sundown each night." Thorin explained firmly, leaving no room for negotiation.

"B-But, how will I know when it's sundown?" Bilbo asked in a quiet voice. He didn't want to interrupt Thorin, and risk angering the Dwarf, but he really had no idea how to tell time under the mountain. Thorin took a moment to think and then shrugged.

"I'll make sure Dwalin knows when to bring you back to your room." Bilbo nodded. "Any other questions?" The Dwarf demanded. Bilbo quickly shook his head. "Pick a room." Thorin commanded, pointing Bilbo towards the two doors to the right. Bilbo cautiously walked to the first door and curiously peeked inside.

The antechamber was bigger than Bilbo thought it would be. There was a four post bed with rich blue blankets and black furs covering the mattress. The round rug in the center of the room was also black fur but it looked impossibly soft. There was a smaller fireplace across the room from the bed, and a dresser in the corner. There was also a desk at the end of the bed, but there was nothing on it. Bilbo saw a door he assumed led to the bathroom just to the right of the bed. Overall, it was a much nicer room than he had seen in years. And he felt impossibly guilty that he should be staying in such a room when his mother was still living in squalor in the Shire. No for long, he thought with a little smile. Thorin was sending for her.

"Does it suit your taste, little thief?" Bilbo jumped at Thorin's voice, alarmingly close behind him. He turned frantically to find Thorin only a few feet away.

"I-It's beautiful. Thank you King Thorin." Bilbo said, casting his eyes to his feet again. Thorin couldn't help but reach out and tilt Bilbo's face up towards his.

"Why won't you look at me Bilbo?" He asked softly. Bilbo flushed and pulled away from Thorin.

"I don't want to anger you, Your Majesty. I've learned from that mistake." Suddenly the bruise on Bilbo's cheek seemed to be the only thing Thorin could see. And he set his lips into a firm line, trying not to let his guilt bleed into his expression.

"I don't want you to be afraid of me." Thorin murmured. Bilbo's eyes flicked up to his face, but only for a moment, and then they returned to the ground.

"I think it's a little late for that, Your Majesty." Bilbo whispered. Thorin was clenching his jaw so hard he was getting a headache. He would change Bilbo's opinion of him. He knew he could. But he would have to be patient. He had done nothing but hurt Bilbo since the Hobbit was captured, and it would take a while before Bilbo saw him as anything other than a cruel King willing to do anything to get results. Thorin was prepared to wait as long as it took to change that image. He had never been great at first impressions. But he was pretty expert at changing said bad impression into a good one, with enough time. You could ask pretty much any of his trade partners. And the Company. And most of the population of Erebor.

"I will see you in the morning Master Baggins." Thorin said stonily. Bilbo nodded and quickly fled behind the door of the antechamber. Thorin stared at the closed door for a few moments before sighing and locking it. It was mandatory for him to lock the door. Bilbo was still a prisoner, even if he was Thorin's personal prisoner. But he still felt guilty as he did it. Great way to start changing Bilbo's opinion of him. Locking the Hobbit in a room again. At least it was better than the dungeons.

On the other side of the door Bilbo slid down the smooth stone to the floor and brought his knees to his chest. On one hand, this was definitely an improvement. On the other, he really didn't know what to think about Thorin's little change of heart. And why was the Dwarf king trying to be _nice_ to him? Eventually he got tired of wondering and stood to stumble to his new bed. It was difficult in the dark, he'd have to get some candles for the room tomorrow. But he eventually met with soft furs and heavy blankets and he was practically asleep before he put his head down. He was still so exhausted after the last few weeks, and it had been so long since he'd slept in an actual bed! Even before the dungeon, it wasn't like he had some high quality bed in the Shire. Sacks of flour and a scratchy blanket were nothing compared to the heaven he was currently being engulfed in.

His last coherent thought before he slipped into sleep was of his mother, and the Dwarves going to the Shire to get her. Dwalin had said Dori was going, and Bilbo vaguely remembered stealing a signet ring from a Dwarf named Dori. It seemed like so long ago. He would have to give the ring back. It was hidden in the supply closet with his picks and daggers. He supposed he should tell Thorin about those. He would give the ring back to Dori when he returned from the Shire. With his mother. Oh, that was something he could not wait for.

OOOOO

In Dale, Smaug sat in a plush armchair in his room at the tavern, staring out the window at the mountain. It had been weeks now, and Bilbo had not come out of Erebor, Smaug had been very intently watching. His anger was nearly tangible, but there was the strangest little prickling of concern. He didn't understand how he had become attached to the Hobbit, especially after only five days of knowing him. But the thought of Bilbo trapped in a Dwarvish prison because he failed to snatch the Arkenstone made his blood boil a bit. And the thought of Bilbo dying because he had been caught was even worse.

Of course, there was disappointment, because really he had been so hopeful. Bilbo had been so promising. He thought that the boy would be perfect for stealing the stone and getting out alive. Apparently even the best Thief West of the Misty Mountains wasn't quite enough. He was considering just going in for the damned thing himself. And he did want to know what had become of his Hobbit thief. Maybe it would be possible to salvage the boy. Since Bilbo failed, the contract with him was finished. But Smaug wasn't finished with him. He could simply force the boy to stay with him. He was a Dragon after all. He took what he wanted. And right now, he wanted the Arkenstone, and he wanted Bilbo Baggins.

Who knew, perhaps Bilbo was a passing fancy. A fancy that a few nights in the sheets could cure. And then he could send Bilbo on his way back to the Shire. Or keep him as a pet. He'd always wanted a pet. Bilbo was the perfect size for one too.

The envelope in his pocked felt like it was made of lead. The letter to Bilbo's mother. Smaug hadn't taken it back to the Shire. He had no intention to. But he was mildly curious as to what Bilbo would have written to his mother, under the assumption that he died in the mountain. Smaug fished the envelope out and carelessly broke the seal, unfolding the thick parchment and skimming the words.

_Mother, _

_I'm so sorry, but I'm not coming back from Erebor. Obviously I'm alive as I write this letter, but I'm working in dangerous conditions here. And if this letter is being delivered to you, I have died from those dangerous conditions. In this event, which I dearly hope to avoid, I cannot apologize enough. I left you enough gold to last for a few months. Maybe in the summer you could have strength enough to do some sewing work to sell to the ladies at the market. Just don't overexert yourself, and try to take care of yourself. Hamfest and Daisy are always there for you mother. And I am waiting eagerly to see you once more. _

_I love you so much mother. _

_Bilbo. _

How touching. Smaug couldn't help but smirk at the innocence Bilbo portrayed to his mother. If only this Belladonna woman knew what Bilbo really did to keep her alive. She would probably die of shock right then and there. It would be amusing, now that Smaug thought about it. Certainly food for thought.

Anyways, it didn't matter if Bilbo was still alive or if he was dead. Smaug hoped he was alive, but if he was dead, he was just a Hobbit. The main think he was thinking of was the Arkenstone. There had to be a way for him to acquire it. He supposed if Bilbo failed to get the stone, security measures had been increased to prevent it from being absconded with. But Smaug was smarter than they gave him credit for. He always got what he wanted. So he would enter the mountain, after he was properly prepared. He would look for the Hobbit, and if he was still alive, he would claim Bilbo as well as the Arkenstone. And then he would burn Oakenshield to a crisp and destroy every little thing that had been rebuilt after his last lordship over the mountain. He could practically taste his victory. There was nothing that would stop him, after all.

OOOOO

_AN: Mwah hahahahaha! Smaug is still evil! Let me know what you think!_


	7. Chapter 7

_AN: This chapter was so fun to write because...Dis. I love me some Dis. Enjoy!_

OOOOO

Thorin knocked on the door of the antechamber early the next morning. He knew Bilbo was probably still asleep, but he was eager to start the hunt for Smaug. After the questioning was over, Bilbo could always take a nap. But for now Thorin needed him awake. No sound, or movement, greeted his knock so he gently opened the door. Light from the sitting room spilled into the dark antechamber, falling right on the sleeping Bilbo, who looked tiny in the plush bed. Thorin opened his mouth to rouse the Hobbit, but found that he just couldn't do it. Bilbo looked impossibly peaceful sleeping, a light smile on his lips and hair tousled.

Thorin chuckled and opened the door further, walking to the side of the bed. The Hobbit really was something. Stubborn and smart and unfortunately subjected to hardship after hardship. Thorin wondered how Bilbo ended up the way he did. He knew the boy's mother was sick, but what had led to that? And why did he never mention a father? What happened to the elder Master Baggins?

"Fili and Kili weren't exaggerating. He's adorable." Thorin looked over his shoulder at his smirking sister, who was leaning against the doorway. "Look at that face brother. How can you even think of waking him?" Dis asked, mostly sarcastically.

"We have work to do. He needs to be woken." Thorin muttered reluctantly. Dis scoffed and Thorin looked at her with a raised brow.

"Nonsense. You can question the suspect after he wakes up, you have all day! Go see to Kingdom business, and try to make progress with the Winter Festival. I'll stay and when he wakes, I'll feed him and bring him to the Throne Room." Dis suggested, but it sounded more like an order. Dis was in a word...terrifying. Even to Thorin. Fiercely protective of her family and home, and with world renowned stubbornness. But she was gorgeous and she could be very sweet when she wanted to be. There was no arguing with Lady Dis, and if you cared for your life, you should just go along with whatever she decided. Still, Thorin sighed and rubbed at his face.

"As soon as he wakes." Thorin grunted.

"Of course brother." Dis said with a smile. The King looked at Bilbo for another few moments before shaking his head and walking out of the antechamber, and sitting room. Once he was gone Dis replaced him at Bilbo's bedside. She studied the Hobbit intently, wondering what it was about him that so affected her brother. Thorin may be able to kid the others, and himself, but he could never kid her. He liked the Hobbit. Maybe too much.

Dis smiled and returned to the sitting room, taking one of the large armchairs near the fire. She always kept something to read handy for just such an occasion. She managed to read quite a bit before there were sounds of life from the antechamber. Bilbo came stumbling out of the room, his hair a mess and his eyes cloudy with sleep. He looked at Dis for a long moment, not seeming to understand what exactly she was, before the sleep finally cleared and his eyes widened.

"You...you're Fili and Kili's mom. Thorin's sister. You look just like him." Bilbo gasped.

"You're correct. I'm Dis, daughter of Thrain. And you are Bilbo Baggins, my sons didn't shut up about you for days after they first met you." Bilbo's cheeks colored with a blush and Dis smiled. "Now that you're up, I have a present for you Master Baggins." She said happily, gesturing to a bundle of clothes on the table separating the two armchairs in the room. "While you do look quite adorable in those oversized cast offs, I think you'll be more comfortable in these. The tailor finally got around to making a shirt in your size, and your trousers were washed last night. So, here you are. Get dressed and I'll take you to get some breakfast." Bilbo could only dumbly collect the clothes and cautiously backtrack to the antechamber.

When he emerged a few minutes later, he looked much more comfortable indeed. His raggedy brown trousers that stopped at his calves were mended as well as washed, they looked better than they had in months. And the shirt, made of the most beautiful royal blue fabric, mimicked the style of the shirt he came to Erebor in. But the fabric was sturdy and thick to keep from catching cold. Not that walking around without shoes on would help. Bilbo had somewhat fixed his unruly hair and was still trying to bat it down as he came back into the sitting room. Dis laughed at the childlike action and Bilbo looked up at her with big, nervous eyes.

"You don't have to look so scared of me, Master Baggins. I think you'll find that I'm much more agreeable than my numbskull brother." She told him, standing up from her comfy chair. Bilbo swallowed thickly and tried to smile.

"You can call me Bilbo, my lady." He said shyly. Dis smiled brightly.

"Then you can call me Dis, Bilbo." She replied immediately. Before Bilbo could protest the casual use of her name, she closed the distance between them and slipped her arm through his, linking them at the elbow. "Let's go get some food. I'm starving." She said with a good natured smile. But Bilbo couldn't help but think it was most likely Dis that Fili and Kili got their impishness from.

"I'm not that hungry." Bilbo told her as they walked. Dis scoffed.

"I'm not as stupid as the other Dwarves Bilbo. You've been starved for more than a week. A few meals yesterday does not make up for that. You don't have to eat much, just eat something so you don't faint in the middle of the questioning." Bilbo paled at the mention of the questioning. He was still nervous about being Thorin's informant. What if the Dwarf King actually found Smaug? What if Nori brought the Man form Dragon into Erebor? Bilbo shuddered to think just how angry the Dragon would be when he saw Bilbo acting as Thorin's informant. "You're scared of Smaug, aren't you?" Dis observed, noticing the way Bilbo looked so uncomfortable.

"Aren't you? He's a Dragon. He's practically a living death machine." Bilbo said with a shudder. Dis shrugged.

"He's taken Man form."

"That does not make him any less terrifying, let me assure you. There is a deadly grace to everything he does. A promise that he could kill in the blink of an eye, with no remorse. When I first met him, before I even knew he was a Dragon, I knew he was dangerous." Bilbo sighed, his eyes far away.

"Why did you agree to his contract then? If you feared him so much. I know you wished to help your mother, but surely there would be less dangerous ways to go about it." Bilbo snorted.

"I've been stealing and killing for years now to provide for my mother. There's no such thing as a less dangerous way in my line of work. The reward Smaug offered...it was just impossible for me to pass up such an opportunity. My stupid pride, foolish hope, and faith in my talent blinded me to the fact that it was a suicide mission all along." Bilbo frowned, a little dark cloud settling over him. Dis frowned as well and squeezed his arm consolingly.

"Well, you don't have to do any of that anymore. Your mother will come to Erebor as a guest of King Thorin, and you won't have to worry about her health or her happiness." She prompted.

"I'll always worry about her. She's all I have after all." Bilbo murmured, his eyes glazing over for a moment. "How long do you think it will take her to get here?" He asked, suddenly excited. Dis gave him a fond smile. She could understand why so many of the Company were so in love with Bilbo after only a short time of knowing him.

"The trip there will take them about three months, the trip back will take longer because they'll go slower with your mother traveling with them. And they won't even attempt to travel back until she's healthy enough, so another few months for that. I'd say next fall, or maybe next winter." Bilbo nodded, a little glumly.

"I don't want it to take that long." He huffed. Dis squeezed his arm again.

"I know. But the time will slip by and before you know it, she'll be here." She promised. "Perfect example. Yesterday Fili was in diapers. Now he's one of the best soldiers in Erebor. He's not even of age yet, but he puts some of the soldiers to shame when they spar." She told him proudly. Bilbo smiled as well. He liked Dis, she was very kind to him. "Now, here we are. Remember, you don't have to eat a whole spread, but try to eat enough that your body will start to recover." She prompted, pushing open a door that led to the kitchen.

"Lady Dis! Good morning!" Bombur said happily when Dis walked into the kitchen. Then his eyes caught on Bilbo, and that curious look from the dungeon returned to his face. He abandoned the cake he was mixing and wandered over to stand in front of Bilbo. "Hello again, Bryan." He said, stressing the fake name Bilbo had given him.

"His name is Bilbo, Bombur." Bofur stated from the table he was sitting on a few feet away. Bilbo jumped, because he hadn't even seen Bofur until the hatted Dwarf spoke up.

"I uh...may have given him a fake name the first time I met him." Bilbo said awkwardly, scratching a nonexistent itch on the back of his head.

"Why'd yeh do that?" Bofur asked curiously. Dis too looked interested. Bilbo's blush reached all the way to the tip of his ears and for some reason he looked like he was about to get in trouble and he was scared to admit to it.

"So I could steal from him and three others." Bilbo admitted. No one said anything, though Bombur crossed his arms and waited for an explanation. "It was a test from Smaug, to see if I was as good as people said I was. B-But, I have the rings here, in the mountain. I'll return them, I promise." Bombur's stern gaze immediately softened and he smiled.

"You were very good. We didn't even notice they were missing until we were taking our baths that night." Bombur told him. "What can I get for you little Bilbo?" He asked, as if the entire thing in Dale had never happened. Bilbo blinked a few times in surprise before Dis shepherded him over to sit next to Bofur.

"Um...just porridge." Bilbo said sheepishly. The last time he'd had porridge had lead to a confrontation he wasn't going to forget soon. He hoped something as dramatic wouldn't happen again. Maybe he could actually finish the whole bowl this time. He was pretty hungry. And his body felt malnourished. Even more than usual, that is.

"Just porridge? Yer so skinny Bilbo, yeh need a full turkey, that's what yeh need." Bofur chuckled to himself. Dis sent him a glare and he immediately shut up.

"If he eats too much he'll get sick. His body is recovering from starvation Bofur. We should be glad he's eating at all!" She hissed, as if Bilbo wasn't sitting between the two Dwarves and hearing everything she said.

"Here you are." Bombur set the bowl of porridge in front of Bilbo, along with a bowl of some kind of brown sand like substance and a small pitcher of milk. Bilbo stared at the two additions with creased eyebrows, wondering what he was supposed to do with them.

"Yeh put them in the porridge. Ta make it taste better. Yeh know, less bland." Bofur informed him, though his mouth was full. Little bits of cinnamon bun crumbs fell from his mouth as he spoke and he made no move to brush them off his tunic or sleeve. Bilbo was still confused. "Yeh've never had brown sugar porridge?" Bofur asked, after swallowing his mouthful.

"I pretty much survive on bread and dried meat." Bilbo murmured, looking down at his bowl. "Before I came here, the last time I had porridge was before my dad died." Bilbo told them, his little dark cloud returning. Rather than say anything, Bofur just grabbed his bowl and spooned a liberal amount of the "brown sugar" into the thick porridge.

"And a little bit of milk." Bofur murmured, more to himself, pouring in just enough milk to make the glob thin out a little. "Try it." Bofur encouraged after putting the bowl back in front of Bilbo. The Hobbit looked at the bowl a bit doubtfully but finally he sighed and took a bite. Bofur, Dis, and Bombur all leaned forward slightly to watch him chew and swallow. Bilbo's eyes brightened and he started eating with fervor, shoveling bites into his mouth quicker than he could chew. Bofur laughed, but Dis put her hand on his to slow him down.

"You'll get sick if you eat like that." She reminded him. Bilbo blushed and curbed his enthusiasm. Dis started talking amiably with Bofur and Bombur, only lightly nibbling on some toast. Bilbo kept half an ear open to listen to them, but mostly focused on his food. He was almost done with the bowl, which surprised him, when the doors opened and Dwalin walked into the kitchen. The bald Dwarf cast a look around the inhabitants and his eyes stopped on Bilbo.

"Thorin requires yer presence in the Throne Room." He said gruffly. Dis sighed.

"I told Thorin I would bring him to the Throne Room once he was awake and fed. He's still eating." She pointed out. Bilbo glanced down at his mostly finished bowl and put down his spoon. He wasn't exactly full, but his stomach was starting to turn a little. Any more food and he might throw up.

"I'm fine actually. Probably should go, don't want to make him keep waiting." Bilbo said uncomfortably. Dis frowned, she could hear the way Bilbo's voice hitched and she saw the way he curled in on himself slightly. It wasn't just Smaug who Bilbo was afraid of. But, from what Dis knew of Thorin's actions towards Bilbo thus far, she wasn't that surprised.

"Bilbo, Thorin is never going to hurt you again, I'll make sure of it. You don't have to be afraid of him." She told him, and he blushed. He obviously wasn't comfortable, and honestly, he was a little ashamed that he couldn't hide his true feelings from Dis. He was usually so good at acting and putting on a show. How could Dis see through I'm that easily?

"He's the King, he can do whatever he wants, especially to prisoners." Bilbo murmured.

"He may be the King, but I'm his sister. And I've always been able to beat him in wrestling. If he lays a hand on you, tell me and I'll make sure he learns from that mistake."

"Here here." Bofur agreed.

"Besides, Thorin is hardly ever violent. Don't know why he was acting like that towards yeh, but he _has_ been under a lot of stress lately. The Winter Festival, almost loosing the Arkenstone, and now Smaug is still alive." Dwalin mentioned, and Dis turned that famous glare on the warrior.

"Stress does not excuse his actions Dwalin. I know you are loyal to Thorin, but even you know that he was acting like an animal." Dwalin didn't reply, just looked to the side to watch a kitchen attendant busily scurry by. "Are you sure you're full Bilbo?" Dis asked, gesturing to the porridge. Bilbo did as well and patted his stomach.

"No, but I feel like I'll be sick if I eat more." Bilbo told her with a weak smile. The Princess hummed and wandered to Bombur's counter to snatch two apples.

"In case you want a snack later." She told him, tossing one of the apples to him and biting into the other. Bilbo's smile grew into something real and he tucked the apple into his pocket. "Come on then. I'll walk with you two." She decided, linking arms with Bilbo again, and Dwalin as well. The warrior grumbled but didn't remove his arm. Dis chattered about insignificant things as they walked towards the Throne Room. She told Bilbo about the different rooms he might like in the mountain, and the different people he just had to meet. She told him about a couple of balconies that were really just ledges in the mountain that happened to have doors near them. She happened to mention that they had good gardening soil, and the smile that lit Bilbo's face made her feel warm from her toes to her ears.

"Do you think Thorin would let me garden? On one of the balconies?" Bilbo wondered shyly. Dis snorted a laugh.

"Hang Thorin if he thinks he can stop you! I'll get you all the tools you need, and you can make me a list of seeds to get from Dale." She said decisively. Bilbo smiled gratefully and continued to listen to Dis' idle talk. He stopped quite suddenly and Dis and Dwalin stopped as well. Bilbo was looking at a door and biting his lip.

"That's where Bombur's ring is. And Gloin and Dori and Bifur, if I remember their names right." He told them. "There's also some daggers and some picks and maybe a bottle of ether." He added, looking away from their faces. He wasn't expecting Dwalin to laugh, and he jumped a little when the Dwarf did. "What?"

"That was yer hide out?" Dis asked, a little doubtfully.

"Yeah." Bilbo murmured.

"No ones been able to open that door since we took the mountain back. The lock was warped just the slightest amount and keys wouldn't open it. How'd yeh do it?" Dwalin asked.

"Just with lock picks. It stuck a little bit, but every lock has a weakness." Bilbo shrugged. Dwalin hummed a little in consideration and Dis smiled a little.

"Well, you'll have to open it then, since none of us can. I'll get you some of Nori's picks later." Dwalin told him before walking on. Bilbo followed, still linked with Dis. When they got to the door to the Throne Room, Bilbo stopped walking again, a look of utter anxiety crossing his face. No matter what the Dwarves said, he couldn't help but fear Thorin. And the thought that Smaug could also be in that room just made him want to run away and curl up in the darkest room of Erebor. Dis squeezed his arm and Dwalin patted his back. But then the bald Dwarf opened the door and took Bilbo by his shoulder to lead him into the room. Dis unfortunately wasn't supposed to go in the Throne Room, at least not during court or trials. And this was kind of a mix of both, from what she understood.

Thorin and most of the court Dwarves looked when the door to the Throne Room opened. The King's sharp eyes examined Bilbo as the Hobbit was lead closer and closer to him. He looked good in the new shirt, and he was glad those trousers had been somewhat mended. Still no shoes, but that was to be expected of a Hobbit. The dark circles under Bilbo's eyes were lighter than they were yesterday, but he still looked sickly and thin. And very very uncomfortable.

"Yer Majesty." Dwalin bowed, dragging Bilbo down into an awkward bow as well. Dwalin and Thorin may have been best friends and life long companions, but Thorin was the King. In public, even his family had to bow to him.

"Dwalin. Master Baggins." He acknowledged, then gestured for Bilbo to come closer. The Hobbit just stood there, biting his lip nervously, until Dwalin gave him a little shove forward. Bilbo stumbled over his feet for a few steps but came to stand in front of the King. "You'll be standing next to the Throne for the questioning." Thorin told him, pointing to the space just to the right of the stone armrest. Bilbo did as he was told but fidgeted uneasily when he realized just how close he was to Thorin. He glanced up, unsurprised to see that the Arkenstone was no longer in it's normal place in the throne. Thorin followed his gaze and smirked. "It's being guarded in a very secret location." Thorin murmured to him. Bilbo only nodded. "You're not even going to ask where that may be?" He asked, amazed. Bilbo shrugged again.

"What would be the point of asking? Obviously you wouldn't tell me even if I asked. And I don't particularly want to know." Bilbo told him. Thorin hummed in acknowledgment and studied Bilbo for another few moments before turning back to what he was doing before Bilbo had arrived. There was a Dwarf who had been stealing from vendors in Dale standing before the throne, but he was no where near as good as Bilbo. For one, he was caught because he was wearing the tunic he stole in the store he stole it from. Once judgment was passed on the petty thief (pay twice the amount the tunic would have cost and give it back as well, same for all other goods stolen) Nori appeared and whispered to Thorin. The Dwarf King nodded and turned to Bilbo.

"Nori is bringing the first suspect." He told the Hobbit, who flinched and suddenly forgot how to swallow. "You will be honest with me, won't you Bilbo?" Thorin asked, maybe narrowing his eyes a little bit.

"Why would I lie?" Bilbo murmured.

"To save your skin." Thorin suggested. Bilbo frowned, looking for a moment like a petulant child who wanted nothing more than to punch someone insulting him.

"Well you've never let me lie to you before." Bilbo hissed. Thorin smirked.

"I imagine you can usually get away with your lies. But you forget, I raised Fili and Kili and had two of the most troublesome Dwarves as siblings all growing up. I know how to see past a little deception." Thorin explained.

"I imagine that's also how you know how to manhandle people so well." Bilbo muttered bitterly, thinking back to how Thorin had been startlingly good at handling him when he was being taken to his cell for the first time. Indeed, Thorin chuckled, almost warmly, and nodded. "So why do you even ask if I would be honest? I can't lie to you, so of course I'll be honest." Bilbo pointed out, a little of his irritability showing.

"Oh just idle curiosity." Thorin smirked. Nori cleared his throat, and Bilbo realized the entirety of the court was looking at the two of them. He swallowed thickly and looked at the Man who Nori had brought forward. He was tall with long black hair, tied back in a pony tail, and green eyes. And most importantly, he was not Smaug.

"It's not him." Bilbo sighed, his relief strong enough to make his stomach flutter. Thorin looked at him evenly for a few moments then turned back to the Man.

"Have you seen any Men or Elves acting oddly lately?" He asked seriously. The Man appeared to think it over for a few minutes and then shook his head.

"Not seen many odd ones. Tavern's always got loud rowdy folk, but nothing odd." The man told him. "W-Why was I brought for questioning exactly?" He asked, his eyes darting to Bilbo questioningly. Bilbo realized with a start that he did recognize the man. He had seen the man in the tavern when he had sat down with Smaug. The man had been looking at them with the strangest expression.

"He's seen _him_ though." Bilbo told Thorin. "You saw me in a tavern, a few weeks ago." Bilbo stated to the Man, who nodded. "My companion, have you seen him?"

"Not since that night. Thought he left town. Tavern folk usually do after a few nights." Bilbo felt his shoulder drop in disappointment and he looked down at the floor. "I-I'll keep a lookout for him though, if you want." The Man offered.

"Yes, that would be very helpful." Thorin said and then dismissed the Man. Nori obediently led the still probably confused Man from the Throne Room. "Court is dismissed for the day." Thorin decided, and a general rumble of agreement went through the room. Bilbo shifted from foot to foot, unsure of what he should be doing, as the Dwarves cleared out of the room. When it was only Thorin, Dwalin, and himself, the King stood and removed his crown. "Bilbo, what exactly does he look like?" Thorin asked. "Nori's been going with the assumption of Man or Elf height, dark hair, and odd color eyes." He explained.

"Well...that's not far from it. He does have very dark black hair, and he is the height of a Man. There's a sort of...air of not-normal around him, and he has the most...terrifying...golden eyes." Bilbo shuddered, remembering the way they had burned on his skin when Smaug looked at him. "He wears black clothes, and he's lithe, like an Elf. Really, I don't think Nori would miss him, if he saw him." Thorin nodded and glanced at Dwalin.

"Tell Nori." He instructed. Dwalin bowed and walked away to find the Spymaster, leaving Bilbo and Thorin alone. That scared Bilbo more than he wanted to admit. He dropped his eyes to his feet and waited to be dismissed as well. Though, considering his guard had been sent away, he didn't see it happening in the near future. At the very least, he'd have to have Thorin escort him somewhere. "Did you eat today?" Thorin asked.

"Yes." Bilbo replied blankly. Thorin sighed and tilted his face up.

"Please look at me when you speak Bilbo." The King requested, catching Bilbo's eyes at long last. "I know I do not deserve anything from you, but I would like it if you did." He added, maybe a little hesitantly. Bilbo never got the chance to reply. The door to the Throne Room opened and Dain II Ironfoot strode in with a smirk on his face. "Oh Mahal." Thorin breathed. "Here we go."

OOOOO

_AN: Mwah hahahahaha! Dain Ironfoot returns to the story! And it will be glorious! Feel free to leave a comment or question!_


	8. Chapter 8

_AN: Oh Dain. I at once love and hate you. _

OOOOO

"Cousin! Just who I was looking for!" Dain spoke enthusiastically, as always, but Thorin couldn't help but hate his presence at the moment. And if he shifted a little so he was standing in front of Bilbo, no one mention it. Though Dain did try to see around him.

"Dain. How good to see you. I assume you're here to talk about the Winter Festival again." Thorin tried to sound polite, he really did. But he was pretty sure it came out more annoyed than anything. Dain didn't seem to mind, he was very intently trying to study the Hobbit behind his cousin.

"And who is this lovely little creature?" He demanded, a flirtatious smile on his face. Dain was a notorious playboy and flirt, and Thorin had never wanted to smack his cousin so much as he did in this moment.

"This is Bilbo, my prisoner." Thorin said tensely.

"Oh, yes! The Arkenstone Thief! I've heard plenty about you little Bilbo, but I never thought you would be so attractive!" Bilbo looked the furthest thing from comfortable with the way Dain was looking at him. "What is a pretty little thing like you doing stealing? With a face like that, you could be a King's consort! And since we're on the subject, I'm currently in the market." Dain grinned and Bilbo cringed.

"Forget it cousin, he can't leave Erebor." Thorin barked and Dain pouted.

"You take the fun out of everything Thorin."

"Did you actually have something you needed to talk about?" Thorin was never usually so quick tempered with his cousin. He had gotten used to Dain's behavior over the years. But for some reason he just wanted to shove Dain over the edge of the walkway.

"Fine, be a spoilsport. As a matter of fact, I am here to talk about the Winter Festival, and your invitation list." Dain sounded relatively professional, but his eyes kept sliding towards Bilbo. They raked over the Hobbit making Bilbo's skin crawl unpleasantly. "You invited the leaders of the Menfolk, but Balin and I have talked and we agree you need to invite Thranduil." Thorin grimaced. As if he wasn't already in a bad mood!

"Winter Festival is a Dwarvish and Human holiday. The Elves probably won't even accept."

"Then you should have no problem inviting them! Look Thorin, the Festival is more than just a party, it's a political show. Now I know quite well your aversion to all things Thranduil, but he has helped Erebor a lot since the reclaiming, and he's a very powerful man. You do not want to offend him, more than you already do during counsel meetings, and frankly you need a little something to get back on his good side after that incident at the first Open Market." Dain smirked and Thorin glowered. "Just invite him, and if he declines, you don't have to worry about anything. If he accepts, just buck up and take it like a Dwarf! You're the King for Mahal's sake, and politics are more important than your personal enjoyment! Besides, he might bring some of that Elvish wine of his and by morning, you won't even remember that he was there!"

"Fine! Mahal, I give up! Invite the damn Elf!" Thorin yelled, then rubbed his eyes.

"There now, that wasn't so bad. I'll have Balin send out the invitation immediately." Dain grinned victoriously and turned to leave before turning back. "Perhaps I could beg a dinner with Master Bilbo?" He proposed with a raised brow. Thorin shot him a glare that would make a lesser Dwarf run off with his ax between his legs. "Sheesh, fine. You can have him to yourself." Dain muttered and walked away. Thorin waited until he was gone to turn to face Bilbo. The Hobbit was glaring at the ground and he took a step back when Thorin stepped towards him.

"I apologize for my cousin's behavior, he flirts with everything that lives and breathes. And some statues." Bilbo scoffed but didn't stop glaring, and he did not look at Thorin. The King sighed and stepped forward again, but Bilbo once again stepped away.

"Please don't." Bilbo murmured, crossing his arms across his chest. It looked more like he was hugging himself, keeping himself safe, than anything. "And don't make excuses for him, because I saw the way he was looking at me, and I've seen it before. It led to nothing good the first time." Bilbo's eyes were far away as he said it, and Thorin felt his stomach knot up at the implication. Bilbo's life, for all he _did_ know about it, was still such a mystery to Thorin. And he found that he wanted to know more. He wanted to know everything.

"Will you tell me what happened?" Thorin asked, so quietly and so humbly, that Bilbo actually looked at him. And the Hobbit didn't even glare! He looked...shocked. But he schooled his features into unaffected and shrugged.

"Not much to tell. I was commissioned to steal something for a man of Bree. I did what he asked and when I tried to leave with my reward, he tried to rape me. So I slit his throat." Bilbo spoke so evenly, so calmly, that it took Thorin a moment to properly react. "No one else has tried, because they know what I'm capable of, but I know what that look means. What it means a man wants." Bilbo shuddered, though he still spoke so professionally.

"I won't let that happen Bilbo. If you think Dain is a danger to you, then I'll make sure Dwalin never leaves you alone with him." Thorin promised and Bilbo's brows crinkled in confusion.

"Why would you care about what happens to me?" Thorin had no answer for him. What could he really say? That he felt so protective of the Hobbit that he would gladly banish his own cousin? That he still wanted to banish himself when he looked at Bilbo, so thin and pale and that damned bruise on his cheek? That he wished he could keep Bilbo at his side all day, every day, just to be absolutely sure that nothing would happen to him? For good reason, he doubted Bilbo would take kindly to such answers, considering the fact that Bilbo still hated Thorin. So in the end, he just shrugged. Bilbo frowned so Thorin scrambled to think of _something_ to say.

"You've been mistreated enough since entering my mountain. I will not hear of any more abuse done to you." Thorin tried to sound regal and detached as he said it, but he was sure Bilbo could see right through him just as well as Thorin could see through Bilbo. "I'll escort you somewhere if you'd like." He added quickly, before Bilbo could reply. Bilbo eyed him warily, then sighed.

"If I could just go to my room, that would be nice." Bilbo asked. Thorin nodded and started walking, Bilbo following after him silently. They made it all the way back to the Royal Chambers before Thorin thought of anything to say.

"Fili and Kili wanted me to invite you to dinner tonight. Dis will be there as well." Bilbo bit his lower lip and considered it for a moment.

"I suppose." He agreed.

"I'll have one of the boys come to get you when dinner is ready. Dwalin should be along shortly to stay in the sitting room, so you don't receive any unwanted visitors." _Or try to escape_, was left silent, though they both knew it was being thought. Bilbo nodded and once again disappeared behind the antechamber door. Thorin turned to leave when the door opened behind him and he spun around.  
"Dwalin said Balin wanted to talk to me. About my mother." He told Thorin.

"I'll make sure he knows where to find you." Thorin promised. Bilbo nodded and then shut his door again. Thorin couldn't help but smile a little. Bilbo really cared so much about his mother. It was evident, just like Balin said it was. Thorin found himself excited to meet whatever woman raised such a boy. Although, from what he knew of Bilbo's conversation with Balin, it sounded more like Bilbo had raised himself.

OOOOO

Bilbo was still talking to Balin and Dwalin when Fili arrived in the sitting room to take him to dinner. Balin bid him good day and wandered off, but Dwalin insisted on walking the two of them to the dining hall. Thorin had told him about Bilbo's unease regarding Dain, and he couldn't say he blamed the Hobbit. Dain was kind of a creep. And given what Thorin told him about Bilbo's past (and if Bilbo hadn't have killed that Man, then Dwalin would have found him and killed him) it was no surprise Bilbo was uncomfortable. Dwalin wasn't going to be leaving Bilbo's vicinity unless he was absolutely sure the Hobbit was safe.

"I'm so glad you're out of those cells Bilbo! They're awfully cold! I wanted to sneak you more blankets, but Thorin forbade Kili or me to go anywhere near the dungeon. And while usually I would just ignore him, he was really worked up about it." Fili chattered as they walked. "You should come with us to Dale tomorrow!" Fili abruptly shouted, looking like an excited puppy. Bilbo didn't have the heart to tell him that by law he couldn't, so he just looked up at Dwalin, who sighed but turned to Fili.

"Yer uncle has commanded that Bilbo cannot leave Erebor." He told the young Dwarf, who immediately began to pout and sulk.

"Why is uncle such a spoil sport?" Fili whined, quite serendipitously at the exact moment the dining hall door opened and Thorin appeared in the doorway. Fili's eyes grew big and his mouth dropped open. "U-Uncle...I didn't...did you...I mean to say..."

"Go join your brother Fili." Thorin sighed, sounding remarkably like a parent. Fili scurried off before Thorin could change his mind and start yelling. "Dwalin, are you joining us at our table tonight?" Thorin asked the warrior. Dwalin was about to reject the offer, when he was faced with a pair of big blue eyes. Bilbo was looking up at him pleadingly. In truth, Dwalin was probably Bilbo's favorite Dwarf. He liked Fili and Kili and Bofur and Dis. But Dwalin had saved Bilbo's life, in the dungeons. And that wasn't something Bilbo would just forget.

"I...I guess I could for a little while." He murmured, and Bilbo smiled. If Thorin couldn't help but glare at Dwalin for a moment, no one mentioned it. The Dwarf King went back into the dining hall and Dwalin gestured for Bilbo to follow him first. The hall was not as big as Bilbo thought it would be. There were two tables, one with six chairs and one with twelve. Bilbo recognized everyone in the room. Dis, Fili, and Kili were sitting at the six chaired table. And the twelve chaired table held members of the King's Company. Bilbo counted eight of them. But four would be sitting at the six chaired table, and Bilbo remembered that one of the Company was headed to the Shire for his mother. It appeared that they all ate together every night.

"Bilbo!" Bofur and Ori waved at him from the long table, and suddenly all eyes were on him. He froze in his steps and couldn't seem to remember how to walk.

"His name is Bilbo?" Gloin whispered to his brother, and then the awkward moment passed with a wave of laughter from everyone else, and an explanation from Bombur. Dwalin prompted Bilbo to walk the rest of the way to the six chaired table, and Bilbo took a seat between Dis and Fili. Thorin was right across from him, and Bilbo tried not to look at him as a plate was put in front of him.

"How did the questioning go today?" Dis asked kindly as Bilbo picked at his food, only eating a bit of it at a time.

"Well, it wasn't Smaug, so that was good. I did recognize the Man though, from a tavern I stayed at in Dale. He was giving me the oddest look." Bilbo told her, a slight smile on his face as he remembered the Man. "Unfortunately, he hadn't seen Smaug either, not since the night he saw him with me."

"It did give Nori something to go on though. If Smaug was staying at a tavern, he probably still is. And there's only so many taverns in Dale." Thorin stated from across the way. He already appeared to be finished with his dinner, but he seemed more than happy to stay and sit with his friends and family. Dwalin and the boys were scarfing down their food at a dangerous rate, and Bilbo worried for a moment that they would choke. Dis took a more sensible pace.

"Do you have someone to question tomorrow?" Dis asked, looking expectantly at her brother.

"Not as of yet, but Nori said he would go back down to Dale after dinner." Thorin replied. Dis nodded and then turned back to Bilbo.

"I heard you had an unfortunate run in with my idiot cousin, Dain." At least she was blunt. Bilbo swallowed the mouthful of corn he was eating and nodded sheepishly. "I hope he didn't do anything too bad. Dain has always been the most annoying, opportunistic Dwarf. But he's relatively harmless. And he's only staying until the end of Winter Festival." She promised. Bilbo bit his bottom lip, bucking up the courage to ask a question, even though he knew Dis would only be too happy to answer him.

"What is Winter Festival exactly?" Bilbo asked shyly, and Fili and Kili stopped in their mad inhalation of food to look at him.

"You don't know what Winter Festival is?" Kili asked, gaping openly at the Hobbit. Bilbo shook his head, and their gapes only got bigger.

"Close your mouths boys, you look like birds." Dis sounded so exasperated. "Winter Festival is a celebration during the middle of winter and the beginning of the new year. It is a time of parties and gift giving and lots of food." She explained happily.

"So it's like Yule in the Shire." Bilbo hadn't celebrated Yule in years. He just didn't have the money to purchase a big feast or presents. And even if he and Belladonna were invited to parties, they couldn't go. Not when Belladonna always took a turn for the worse health wise around that time. Usually they spent Yule together, bundled up in their shack, remembering better times. They would talk about Bungo and the presents he would hand make, and they were always so beautiful. They would talk about the magnificent parties that would fill Bag End for days. They would remember the warmth and the love they felt. And then they would usually spend the night trying not to cry because it would never be that way again.

"Every race has their own version, though the Men of Dale and Lake Town enjoy adopting the Winter Festival as their holiday as well. You'll love it! There's five days of celebration and the sixth night is spent in family units. You are of course more than welcome to join ours, since you mother is so far away." Dis said with a warm smile. Bilbo tried to return it, but in truth his heart was aching at the thought of celebrating anything without his mother. Especially something meant to be celebrated with family. Suddenly he wasn't hungry anymore.

"Are you alright Bilbo?" Fili asked, his face turning worried.

"You look all pale." Kili commented.

"I-I'm fine. Just tired I suppose." He told them gently, with a fake smile.

"Want me to walk yeh back to yer room?" Dwalin asked through a mouthful of meat.

"No, I can wait until you've finished eating." Bilbo insisted, though he really didn't want to stay there for much longer. Suddenly Thorin was standing and he looked at Bilbo expectantly. When the Hobbit didn't stand he sighed.

"Come on." He said simply. Bilbo glanced at Dis, who was struggling to hold her mirthful snickers in, before standing.

"You don't have to-"

"Hobbit. I'm walking you to your room, not offering you half the treasury. Come on." Fili and Kili burst out laughing and Bilbo blushed to his ears. Then he stuck his nose in the air, and pointedly walked towards the door. Behind him, Bilbo could hear Dis muttering to Thorin.

"You're a real charmer Thorin. Really. I don't know why he doesn't like you. You're so smooth." Thorin glared at her but followed the Hobbit to the door, holding it open for Bilbo. The Hobbit didn't even glance at him, just walked out into the hall and began towards his room. He had a very good memory when it came to directions. He did live in the maze like Shire after all. Or, he used to. He knew exactly how to get from the antechamber to the throne room, to the kitchen, and to the dining hall, and to the library. If he concentrated hard enough, he could also recall how to reach the bathing chambers, from the library anyways. But the antechamber had its own bathing tub, so he doubted he'd need to use the public chambers anymore.

Thorin tried desperately to think of something to say, but the more he thought about it, the more he considered the fact that he should probably not talk. He only ever seemed able to make Bilbo more disenchanted with him, if that were possible. He was trying to change Bilbo's opinion of him, and he was failing pretty hard. When they arrived in the rooms, Bilbo went straight to the antechamber and shut the door before Thorin could dig himself a deeper hole that night. Honestly, Thorin was grateful.

But that didn't mean he didn't wish he could speak to Bilbo. He wished he could speak easily and peacefully with him, the way Dis and Balin and Bofur seemed to be able to. He kept reminding himself that with time, it might become a reality. But he was incredibly impatient. Not with everything. But for some reason, he was impatient about this.

He locked Bilbo's room and returned to dinner, ignoring all the looks and jokes that the company sent his way. The jeering would normally be endearing, because it ceased to be annoying many years ago. But his mind was on bigger things. Namely, how to make Bilbo Baggins like him.

OOOOO

"Dain I swear to all things merciful if you do not get the hell out of my throne room I will have Dwalin remove you!" Bilbo cringed, but did not look up from his feet. He was once again to the side of Thorin's throne, though the suspect of the day had yet to be brought forward. Instead Thorin was dealing with his cousin, which to Bilbo seemed like an even worse fate than dealing with Smaug. His dislike for Dain was practically tangible, even as he just stood there to the side of the impressive rock throne.

"Come now cousin, your ill temper will be the death of you one of these days. I am only saying that the Arkenstone Thief should not remain in Erebor, where he may very well try his trade again, with more success. Sending him to the keep of the Iron Hills would be a very fitting punishment." Though Bilbo did have to say Dain was persistent. And apparently fearless, because Bilbo had been on the receiving side of a few of Thorin's glares and each time they had melted his insides into a goo. That Dain looked so calm, and continued to argue his proposition, while being the sole subject of Thorin's anger was truly amazing.

"He will be staying here, as I and my counsel have decided! This will be the last time we have this discussion Dain! What I do with my prisoners is none of your business and I would strongly recommend you put thoughts of the Arkenstone Thief far out of your thick skull!" Thorin practically snarled, and by this point only Dwalin and Dain could still look at him. The counsel itself, which sat in on every day of court, were all looking anywhere but the fuming king and his kin. Bilbo was also avoided, their eyes looking all over the room, settling on carvings or banners rather than meeting anyone's eyes.

"Thorin I must insist. There is no place in Erebor for a Thief." Bilbo cringed, but tried not to show it. He knew he would never belong in Erebor, and frankly there was only one reason he was even trying anymore. Once his mother arrived, things would get better. Until then...he found it hard to wake every morning.

"And there is in the Iron Hills?" Thorin scoffed. "It is my decision who and what has a place in my Kingdom, and Bilbo Baggins will remain here. I suggest you retire for the day Dain." It wasn't really a suggestion, and they all knew it. But Bilbo was beginning to realize that there were two people who would argue with Thorin, regardless of the place or time. And Thorin only tolerated it from Dis because she usually was arguing with him for the better of everyone, not just herself. Dain on the other hand...

Bilbo held his breath, and he was sure that several of the counsel members did as well, as they waited to see if Dain would defy Thorin. Luckily, the visiting royal only narrowed his eyes, which flicked from Thorin, then to Bilbo, before returning to the King.

"I am rather tired." He muttered before turning and storming out of the throne room. Bilbo thought that brooding, storming, and general bad temperament must be genetic in Durin's line, because Dain looked just like Thorin as he stormed out. Then he cringed because it was insulting to compare Thorin to Dain, in any way, shape, or form.

"Nori!" Thorin barked out once Dain was gone. He was angry, but he wasn't going to stew on his anger. Instead he sat back, his sapphire eyes burning as he waited for the suspect. He glanced to his right at Bilbo, who's cheeks were a bright red. Though he didn't know if it was embarrassment or anger. Thorin was seriously considering throwing Dain out of Erebor, at this point. It had been three days since he had met Bilbo, and it felt like every day he came to Thorin with a new argument that would eventually end with Bilbo being in his grasp. And Thorin was not going to let that happen. "Are you okay?" Thorin whispered as they waited. Bilbo shrugged, but said nothing. Thorin opened his mouth to say something when the door opened.

"This is ridiculous! I demand to know why I've been dragged from my day for questioning!" Thorin's brow raised at the gall of the man who was charging through the throne room. This was the fourth man they were seeing for questioning, and the first to be impertinent enough to demand answers for himself. Thorin wished that it was Smaug, just so he could teach the Man a lesson. But one glance at Bilbo informed him it was not Smaug. Bilbo looked relieved, as he did every time the doors opened and Smaug did not come through.

"It's not him." Bilbo told Thorin, though he really didn't need to. Thorin nodded and gestured for Nori to lead the Man out. He didn't want to deal with the annoying Man if it wasn't Smaug. That would only make him angrier than he already was.

"Hey wait! Why in Eru's name was I brought here?!" The Man yelled angrily, even as Nori towed him away. The red head was surprisingly strong, Bilbo was realizing. But he heard tales of Nori's older brother, and according to them, Dori was the strongest Dwarf in Erebor. Even more so than Dwalin or Thorin. Bilbo didn't want to believe it, because if it was true, he stole from the strongest Dwarf in Erebor. And that would not bode well for him, he didn't think, when Dori returned from the Shire.

"Obnoxious Man." Bilbo heard Thorin mutter, and he had to agree. That Man had been rather...interesting. And blessedly not Smaug. Bilbo wondered why Nori was still bringing in these men, when Smaug had golden eyes. That was surely hard to miss, and not easily confused with blue, green, or black, as he'd seen on the suspects so far. Thorin gestured for the counsel to take a break. He usually did, after seeing the potential Smaug suspect. He liked to talk to Bilbo for a bit after each "questioning". And today, Bilbo had something to ask of the King.

"Your majesty, may I ask you something?" Bilbo murmured quietly, because the counsel had not quite cleared out yet.

"Of course." Thorin nodded in agreement, but kept his voice low as well.

"What if...what if we never find Smaug? What if he's not even in Dale anymore? He could be on the other side of Middle Earth in three days time, he could be anywhere." Bilbo sounded defeated, which made Thorin want to comfort the Hobbit, but instead he only grit his teeth and straightened his spine.

"He's still near." Thorin said confidently. Bilbo's brow wrinkled in confusion. How could Thorin be so sure? As if the Dwarf King could hear his thoughts, Thorin cleared his throat. "He will not give up so easily on retaking the mountain. He's still a Dragon, no matter what form he's taken." Bilbo nodded, though he did not look convinced. If Smaug thought that Bilbo failed, which he must have at this point, then why would he remain. He was probably off searching for a better thief.

"I'll take my leave then, if it is alright with you, your majesty." Bilbo murmured, already glancing towards the door. Usually they talked a bit more, about pointless things. Bilbo knew Thorin was trying to get on his good side, though he couldn't for the life of him figure out why he would want to, but he was tired. The argument Thorin had with Dain, about him and right in front of him, had mentally drained him and he had not even participated in it. Thorin sighed, but nodded. As Dwalin stepped forward to lead Bilbo out, Thorin spoke again.

"I've told you to call me Thorin." He reminded Bilbo. The Hobbit didn't even turn.

"Of course, your majesty."

OOOOO


	9. Chapter 9

_AN: The first half of the Winter Festival, wrapped and ready to be opened. Call it a late (or early) Christmas present, since Winter Festival is essentially Christmas/New Years. Hope you enjoy!_

OOOOO

The week of the Winter Festival came quicker than Thorin thought possible. He was focusing so hard on finding Smaug and appealing to Bilbo that the Holiday literally snuck up on him. In the form of two nephews, dressed to the nines in fancy red and green fabrics.

"What do you think uncle?" Fili asked, puffing his chest out proudly, showcasing the line of emerald buttons on his coat.

"The tailor really outdid himself this year, right uncle?" Kili added, striking a pose with his hands on his hips. "There's clothes for you in your room. Some for Bilbo too." That caught his attention. He complimented the boys and then hurried off to his chambers, arriving just in time to see Bofur handing Bilbo his red and green bundle of new clothes.

"Why do you keep bringing me new clothes? I've lived with only one pair for years now." Bilbo huffed, but took the clothes anyways.

"Ya, and it's no wonder those trousers were in such poor condition when yeh arrived. If yeh keep complainin' about whenever someone gives yeh a gift, they'll stop givin' them." Bofur scolded him fondly, pushing the Hobbit towards his antechamber before Bilbo could retort that he didn't want gifts. "Thorin, yours are on your bed." Bofur called over his shoulder before disappearing into the antechamber with Bilbo. Thorin blinked, astounded, at the closed door for a few moments before frowning. What did Bofur think he was doing, following Bilbo in like that?

"Careful, yer eyes might melt a hole in the door." Thorin jumped and spun around to see Dwalin standing against the opposite wall with a smirk on his face. "Come on. Dis said I'm to make sure yeh try on yer clothes. The first party is tomorrow, and we have to make sure they fit before then." Dwalin also shared Bofur's skill at avoiding retorts, and he quickly shifted Thorin's attention to the clothes waiting on his bed.

Red trousers and a green overcoat were laid out side by side, along with a white shirt and a red vest. There was also a sprig of holly to pin to the jacket lapel. It was cheesy, but Winter Festival was a time of cheesy clothes and no one judged anyone for what they wore. Because it was likely they were trying to look more ridiculous themselves. Last year Dis had worn a puffy dress three times the size of her usual dresses, with red and green stripes and holly leaf designs in golden thread.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Both Thorin and Dwalin stopped at Bilbo's exclamation and neither could hide their smiles. Thorin quickly finished buttoning up the white shirt and rushed over with Dwalin hot on his trail to peak in and see what kind of ensemble had been made for the Hobbit.

Bilbo looked...great. He was wearing green trousers, cut to his preferred Hobbit length, and a red shirt. Bofur was currently trying to put a white overcoat on the resisting Hobbit, complete with lace and holly leaves on the lapels, and the hem. Thinking of what Bilbo would look like in the coat made Thorin grin wickedly and he quickly announced his presence and volunteered to help with the Hobbit wrangling. At that point, Bilbo gave up and let Bofur put the stupid, ruffled coat on him. He did have experience with Thorin and his Hobbit wrangling after all, and he was not eager to repeat it. When Bofur finished the last button, Bilbo looked a step beyond annoyed.

"Bilbo, yeh look wonderful! Yeh'll blend right in with the other ridiculous outfits, I promise. Just wait until you see the princes'." Bofur told him through hardly muffled giggles.

"Seriously, Bilbo, yeh do look amazing." Dwalin told him, before biting his lip to keep laughter from booming forth. Thorin simply smirked, his eyes going over and over the Hobbit to make sure he would never forget the sight. He looked like an ill tempered lamb.

"I look like some child's doll!" Bilbo hissed, crossing his arms and glaring at the three Dwarves.

"Oh...well...at least yer a cute doll." Bofur said innocently and this time he and Dwalin burst out laughing, unable to contain it after the look Bilbo gave them. Thorin restrained himself from opening laughing at the Hobbit, but that did not temper Bilbo's wrath.

"Would you all get out!" He yelled, and three Dwarves could be seen scampering out of the antechamber within the next five seconds.

"Oh. Just wait 'til the others see him." Bofur practically hooted with laughter, following his King and the Warrior to Thorin's chambers. "Wait 'til Dis sees him!" He added, and Dwalin started howling with mirthful laughs all over again. As if she was summoned by the speaking of her name, the door to Thorin's chambers was thrown open and a very pleased looking Dis walked in. And a very pleased looking Dis hardly meant anything good for Thorin. She quickly closed the door behind her...maybe a little too quickly.

"What?" The Dwarf King sighed, making his sister grin wider.

"I'm here to tell you that Thranduil has arrived. And that he's in your sitting room right now. With his son. And Bilbo." Thorin hardly heard to the end of her words before he growled and stormed out of his room. Sure enough, Thranduil sat on the only couch in the sitting room, to the right of Bilbo. And to the left of Bilbo sat his equally infuriating son, Legolas. And they were both apparently over the moon with their discovery of a Hobbit living in Erebor.

"You're such a delightful young man! Whatever are you doing here of all places?" Thranduil was saying, and Bilbo flushed red at the praise. And oh the cursing that went through Thorin mind, if not through his mouth, at the sight. Leave it to Thranduil to flatter his Bilbo! Not that Bilbo was his but...still.

"He's my prisoner Thranduil, and as it is, he will remain my prisoner." Thorin said, maybe a little harshly if Bilbo's flinch was anything to go by. Thranduil frowned and looked back toward Bilbo.

"Why on Middle Earth would you be a prisoner?" Again Bilbo flushed, and he looked away from the Elvenking, this time in shame. "Do not be embarrassed, Bilbo, I will not judge you."

"Yes you will. I'm not as innocent as everyone seems to think I am." Bilbo murmured before jumping up and running back to the antechamber. Thranduil and Legolas watched him go before turning glares on Thorin.

"Was it necessary to hurt his feelings like that?" The Elvenking hissed.

"My brother lacks tact. Among many other things." Dis muttered, and Thorin turned only to realize that he was being glared at by three Dwarves as well. "I'll go make sure he's okay." Dis decided and shoved Thorin out of the way to walk to Bilbo's room. Thorin sighed and rubbed at his face before taking a seat across from Thranduil and his son.

"You arrived earlier than we anticipated." It was a weak topic of conversation, and he was still getting dirty looks from everyone present, but he ignored them rather efficiently.

"We overestimated the time needed to reach the mountain. I had not realized you finished clearing the main road from Lake Town to Dale." Thranduil spoke diplomatically, but there was a coldness in his tone.

"I am glad your travels went well." Thorin put on a fake smile, which Thranduil mirrored.

"As am I. I remember coming to the Winter Festival many times before Thror began his downhill spiral. It was always a wonderful experience. I was surprised to receive your invitation, but pleased none the less." A tense silence fell, only broken when Dis popped her head out of Bilbo's room and gestured for Bofur and Dwalin to join her. The two Dwarves were more than happy to comply. "What exactly was his crime?" Thranduil asked once the door was closed again. Thorin grit his teeth, but decided it would do no harm.

"He tried to steal the Arkenstone, under contract from an enemy of Erebor." Officially, only a few people knew that Smaug was still alive. The Company, and a few other reliable Dwarves who helped Nori with the search. They did not want a mass panic on their hands if the citizens of Dale found out they had a Dragon hiding amongst them. And Thorin would not put it above the Elvenking to start said panic.

"I see. I would have thought, knowing you, such a crime would be cause for death." Thranduil pointed out.

"Normally it would. But Bilbo was cooperative and agreed to help identify his employer in exchange for a pardon." Thorin explained tensely.

"How very kind of you. I am sure Bilbo appreciates the reprieve. Though, if I'm correct, such a pardon demands he stay in Erebor for the rest of his life, under permanent parole."

"You are correct." Thorin grunted.

"But when we were speaking, he sounded very enthusiastic about the Shire, and his mother. Would you deny him his home and his family?" Legolas spoke up at long last, always with some kind of accusation in his tone. Always.

"His home in the Shire was not a desirable one, he has admitted that. And his mother is being sent for as we speak. She is sick, so my men are hoping to cure her of her ailment as a gesture of kindness to our new informant." Thorin explained, his voice never loosing it's sharp edge. "But, we surely have others things to talk about. Tonight, at the pre festival feast." Thranduil looked evenly at him for a few moments before nodding.

"Of course. Legolas and I should be getting to our rooms. It's been a long journey and I at least am in need of a little rest before dinner." The Elvenking stood, his son following suit as well. Thorin was the last to stand, and he nodded as respectfully as he could at the two before they left the sitting room, being led by one of Dwalin's guards. Thorin waited until they left to walk over to the antechamber door. He couldn't hear very well through the thick door, but he heard muffled speaking. Then Bofur started talking, and he could hear _that_ loud and clear.

"Thorin and Thranduil have been partners in trade ever since we retook Erebor. But he's never really forgiven the Elvenking for the whole drama that happened the day Smaug took the mountain. It's always very tense whenever yeh put them in a room together. And Thorin tends ta make a fool out of himself with his words more times than not." The hatted Dwarf was saying.

"He wasn't making a fool of himself, he was just stating the truth. I'm a prisoner. That's all I'll ever be." Bilbo was much quieter than Bofur was, but at least Thorin could hear him if he pressed his ear right to the crack of the door.

"Yer more than a prisoner. Yer our friend. Everyone in the Company loves yeh Bilbo. Even the ones who haven't spent much time with yeh! Even Gloin! And he doesn't even like most of the other members of the Company!" Bofur exclaimed, and there was a short, unrealistic chuckle. Like Bilbo was trying to laugh, but just couldn't make it sound authentic.

"Thorin can be an big ass at times. But he didn't mean to insult you. I think he was trying to make Thranduil lose interest in you." Dis commented, and she was obviously closer to the door than Bilbo and Bofur. Maybe on purpose. She most likely knew Thorin was trying to listen in.

"Why would he care if Thranduil had interest in me? I can't leave Erebor anyways, so it's not like I could go running off with the Elvenking." Bilbo pointed out with a little sniffle.

"Yeah well, Thorin's not the brightest gem in the treasury. He gets jealous easily." Dwalin grunted, with a snicker from Bofur.

"Jealous?" Bilbo scoffed, obviously unconvinced.

"Dwarves are often possessive, over everything. People, items, family, home." Dis explained gently. "It's just because he likes you, that he gets so possessive. You just have to be patient with him Bilbo, and eventually he'll figure out he's being a douche."

"Why would he ever like someone like me. A killer and a thief." Bilbo sighed. There were a few moments of awkward silence.

"I like you." Bofur finally murmured.

"So do I." Dis added.

"Liked yeh before I even knew yeh." Dwalin admitted. "There's something about a boy who can stand up to a King like that. It's awe inspiring." He added.

"You've made mistakes in your past. You've done things you regret doing, but at least you feel remorse for them! I can't imagine many thieves and killers feel guilty for their crimes. You had a good reason for doing those things, as terrible as they might have been." Dis assured him, and there was a sigh that sounded like Bilbo.

"That doesn't really make me feel better about it. If I had just...found a better job. Something better than helping cheap Farmer Maggot. I could have provided for her honestly, and I would never be here!" Another silence fell, and there was the sound of someone sitting on Bilbo's bed.

"I'm glad that you're here Bilbo. Don't you see? You don't have to worry about jobs or thieving or killing anymore. Just because you're a prisoner does not mean you'll have a bad life here. All things considered, you'll have a really great life, especially compared to your old one. And when your mother gets here, she'll have a great life as well." Dis said soothingly.

"She'll find out what I am. That'll break her heart." Bilbo murmured sadly.

"No one will tell her Bilbo. I think even Dori was told to be vague." Bofur promised. Bilbo sighed again and sniffled.

"Can I be alone for a while? Please?" He asked shyly.

"Yeah. Will you be okay?" Dis asked. There was no verbal response, but Thorin could just imagine the non committal shrug. "I'll come get you for the feast. And Dwalin will be in the sitting room if you want to go somewhere before then." Dis reminded him, but Thorin didn't hear it. He was already across the sitting room and headed into his chambers so he could deny snooping. He would apologize to Bilbo at the feast. If he survived until then. He didn't even want to think about the scolding he was sure to get from Dis. You'd think the King Under the Mountain would never be scolded. But Dis was one hell of a scary woman.

Thorin sighed and began changing back into his normal attire. He had a few hours before the feast. Maybe he could spend the time thinking of something to say that would not involve insulting or degrading the Hobbit. Mahal knew he'd need every second of the hours given. Thorin really was no good with words. He never thought he'd hate that so much as he did now.

OOOOO

Thorin never got a chance to apologize to Bilbo at the pre festival feast. Bilbo was seated half a table away from him, between Dis and Thranduil. And even after dinner was done, and the attendees were all milling about chattering away, he couldn't get close. He was always distracted by one member of the company or another, or Dain. But he could still see Bilbo, could see the happy smile on his face and sometimes he caught the faintest sound of one of Bilbo's bell like laughs. But Thorin, at least, could tell that most of those smiles and laughs were fake.

Thorin knew Dis could tell as well, because his sister made an excuse for Bilbo long before the evening was supposed to be over, and walked the Hobbit back to his antechamber. By the time Thorin got back to his room, and looked into the side room to check on Bilbo, the Hobbit was fast asleep. He couldn't quite help himself, and he wandered into the dark room to look at the sleeping boy. Bilbo looked so peaceful when he slept, something he never looked when he was awake. Whether he was angry, or pretending to be happy, or uncomfortable...Bilbo never looked truly at peace. Thorin wondered if he even looked at peace near his mother. Or if he simply couldn't bring himself to relax unless he was deep asleep.

"Yer a bit of a creep, lookin at him while he sleeps." Thorin jumped and turned to the door, where Dwalin was smirking at him. Thorin gave him a glare, but Dwalin only smirked more. "Yeh have a wonderful way of making an ass of yerself, yeh know that?"

"Obviously I know that." Thorin remarked, probably louder than he should. Bilbo moaned and turned in his sleep, but thankfully didn't wake. Thorin cast one more look at the Hobbit before stalking out of the antechamber and locking the door behind him. Dwalin followed the King across the sitting room and into his chambers, all the while smiling mirthfully at the expense of his ruler. "Why can't I ever say the right thing to him?" Thorin wondered, not entirely wanting an answer, but knowing he'd get one from Dwalin. It would probably be mocking and insulting to his character, but he'd get an answer.

"Cuz yer an idiot. And because yeh like him. More than yer willing to admit, or even acknowledge in yer own head." Thorin rolled his eyes, but Dwalin was going to keep speaking his mind whether Thorin was annoyed or not. "I've never seen yeh act the way yeh do around him. At first I thought it was hate or loathing. But I've known yeh all my life, and this isn't anger or disgust. This is a crush gone terribly wrong."

"I do not have a crush on the Burglar. If anything, I am intrigued by him. I need to make it up to him for treating him so poorly when he was in the dungeons. And apparently in every conversation I have with him." Thorin sighed, sitting heavily in one of his stuffed chairs.

"I don't think yer capable of having a decent conversation with him. Yeh were never good at talkin', especially when yer nervous." Dwalin informed Thorin, taking the other chair.

"Why on Middle Earth would I be nervous?" Thorin demanded. Dwalin only gave him a look which Thorin chose to ignore. "I'll apologize to him tomorrow."

"Yeh can try. I think Dis, Bofur, and Thranduil have taken it upon themselves to keep yeh away from the boy." Dwalin snickered, and Thorin's bad mood got even worse. "I'm gonna retire for the night. Don't kill anything without me, and try to be nice to the Hobbit when you wake him in the morning." Dwalin said and slunk away before Thorin could unleash any kind of wrath on him. The King muttered about relatives as he got ready for bed, but when he eventually crawled into bed, sleep would not find him.

It took hours of thinking, mostly about the Hobbit, before he fell asleep. And even then, his dreams were invaded by golden curls and wide blue eyes and a smile that he wished was real. Why didn't Bilbo ever smile for real? Thorin wondered if he could get Bilbo to smile. Just once.

OOOOO

Thorin suppressed a yawn as he greeted yet another dignitary from Lake Town. It was the first night of Winter Festival and his Great Hall was positively flooded with Dwarves, Men, and unfortunately enough, Elves. The lone Hobbit was somewhere across the room with his Company, but Thorin kept looking around for Bilbo anyways. Even as he smiled and conversed with Men and Elves and Iron Hills Dwarves who were all apparently fascinated with how Erebor was doing. Thorin was sure that most of it was just appearances for appearances sake, but sometimes he just wanted to slam his face against the wall until they went away.

The Dwarf King was also keeping an eye on Dain. His cousin had heeded his warning, for the most part, after their explosive fight in the throne room. But he still let his eyes linger on Bilbo for far too long. And Thorin could practically see Dain's mind working on a way to get Bilbo alone. As long as it was in his power, Thorin would never let that happen.

For the moment, Dain was flirting with a female Dwarf who worked with the stone masons in the lower levels of Erebor. She was pretty, and unmarried, but if Thorin remembered correctly, she was more concerned with wealth than a relationship. Perfect for his cousin, if he did say so himself. As long as Dain continued to shell out his fortune, she would be happy to join him in bed. And Dain would be plenty happy with the arrangement. Except, like Thorin, the Iron Hills ruler was also looking for Bilbo quite consistently.

"King Thorin?" He was jolted out of his brooding by Legolas, who was looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Prince Legolas. How can I help you?" Thorin asked, though he would much rather walk away and let Balin handle the poncy Elf prince. As it was, his adviser was watching him carefully to make sure Thorin didn't make an ass of himself with the son of their trade partner.

"My father has requested an audience with you after the party has died down." Legolas told him formally, apparently undisturbed by Thorin's hardly veiled sour demeanor. Thorin nodded stiffly and the Elf bowed before walking away.

"What could that tree shagger want to talk about in private?" Thorin huffed, not looking forward to the meeting one bit.

"Thorin I know you and Thranduil hold no love for each other...but perhaps you could _try_ to remember that without him, we would not have regained Erebor." Balin remarked with a raised brow. Thorin muttered to himself, but he did not dispute the matter. Instead he returned to his favorite past time...looking for Bilbo. He had last caught sight of the golden haired Hobbit over by the food table, which made Thorin smile. But it didn't appear Bilbo was there anymore.

Thorin looked for a few minutes before he caught sight of Bilbo standing near one of the only windows in Erebor. He was sitting, the moonlight falling around him like a cloak and making his hair shine, and his skin glow. He looked radiant. Not that Thorin would ever admit it. Dis, Bofur, Fili, and Kili were all crowded around Bilbo but Thranduil was also there, and that left Thorin no peace of mind. The Elf King of Mirkwood had obviously taken a liking to Bilbo, and Thorin didn't like it. Not one bit.

"You could always go talk to him." Balin recommended, and Thorin most certainly did not jump. He had forgotten about his old friend being there, and he was surprised when Balin started talking, but he did not jump.

"And say what? 'Sorry for making you feel like the scum of Middle Earth, want to get a drink'?" Thorin scoffed, and Balin only smiled softly.

"Maybe you could start with a simple, 'How are you this evening'." Balin suggested before wandering away. Thorin considered it, before shaking his head and returning to being a political figure. He was introduced to so many supposedly important people that he lost count fairly quickly. None of them were particularly pleasant or engaging, though one Dwarrowdam from the Iron Hills heavily implied she'd like to see the inside of his bed chambers. He had immediately turned her down, probably a little too harshly, because she scampered off quickly after that. Thorin had to wonder why he rejected her though, since a year ago he would have no problem taking a bed mate.

Finally, after a tediously long time, the party started to slow down. Men started to return to Dale, and Dwarves started returning to their homes in the mountain. Thorin was surprised that the few Elves in attendance were holding on to the night so fiercely. He though the weed eaters would be the first to retire. And damn, did they hold their ale.

"Thorin." Suddenly he was faced with Thranduil, and his promise to talk to the Elven King after the party came back to the forefront of his mind. Sometimes he made really stupid agreements. But he pasted on a political smile and gestured to an empty corner of the Great Hall.

"Did you enjoy the party?" Thorin asked, as pleasantly as possible.

"It is better than I remember it being. Congratulation on such a successful evening." Thranduil complimented in the most monotonous tone Thorin had ever heard.

"Let us hope the success will continue through the next five nights." Thorin hoped that this wasn't going to be a chat strictly filled with empty enthusiasm and compliments. Then again, he wasn't thrilled for a real, business talk either. Thorin wanted to encourage Thranduil to get on with it, but he didn't know how to say as much without being rude. Not that he particularly cared about being rude to Thranduil, but Balin would care. Thankfully, Thranduil appeared as impatient to get this over with as Thorin was.

"Let me get straight to the point Thorin. How much do you want for Master Baggins?" Thorin could only gape at the Elf for a long moment, unsure if he'd heard that right. Thranduil sighed, and rolled his eyes at the dumb look he was receiving. "That sounded a little insensitive. I meant to say, how much will it take to release Master Baggins from his parole? He deserves to be able to leave this mountain, to be able to choose where he goes and when. I will offer any amount of valuable or goods to see to it that he has that choice." Thorin stared at him for another few moments before snapping his mind into gear.

"It does not work that way, King Thranduil. Bilbo is a prisoner, and his crime is too great ignore. He is luck I talked my counsel into sparing his life at all! If I had not agreed to the life time parole, Bilbo would have been executed. And nothing will change that. No amount of valuable or good can reverse the decision." Thorin explained in a cold voice. He didn't know why he was so irritated by Thranduil's words, though a voice at the back of his head was more than happy to tell him. Don't lose Bilbo. Don't ever lose Bilbo. Don't let anyone take him away. Especially an Elf. Especially Thranduil.

"Bilbo is a child of Yavanna, he deserves to live in the sun, outside this dreary mountain." Thranduil persisted, his normally stoic voice for once holding emotion.

"There are plenty of balconies and courts for him to sit in the sun. Once he has identified...his employer, he will have a very good, very respectable life here. You should not worry for him." It was more of an order than a conciliation, but Thranduil ignored it all together.

"I do worry for him, and I will continue to worry for him. He does not belong here in Erebor." Thranduil snapped, and Thorin was reminded of his conversation with Dain. It made him even angrier than he already was.

"Bilbo Baggins will remain in Erebor. Goodnight Thranduil." Thorin growled, marching away before he could say or do anything else to ruin their fragile alliance. He stormed right out of the increasingly empty Great Hall and to his rooms, where he encountered Bofur and Dis saying goodnight to Bilbo. As soon as the Hobbit saw the Dwarf King, he looked down. Thorin wondered if Bilbo knew what Thranduil had talked to him about, but decided he didn't care. He just wanted to go to bed and pray to Mahal that he'd survive to the end of the Winter Festival. Between Dain and Thranduil, he was beginning to doubt it. "Lock his room before you leave." Thorin grunted at Dis and disappeared into his room.

"Well...he seemed tense." Bofur stated after a good long moment of silence.

"I think I saw Thranduil talking to him as we left the party." Dis whispered.

"That would do it." Bofur agreed. The two Dwarves and the Hobbit stared at Thorin's closed door for a moment longer before Bilbo yawned and was mothered out of his fancy clothes and into bed.

"That was fun." Bilbo murmured tiredly as Dis tucked him in.

"Well it's just the beginning Bilbo. Goodnight." She smiled kindly.

"Goodnight."

OOOOO

_AN: TA DA! There's definitely one, maybe two, more chapter of the Winter Festival to come, before the story really starts to get...I would say interesting if I didn't mean screwed up. So yeah, I'll see you next week! Feel free to leave a comment or question!_


	10. Chapter 10

_AN- Hello! I'm back with more of the winter festival! There will be one more chapter about the festival before I fast forward a little. To the really heavy stuff. Shit is about to go down, in a few chapters. Be ready. Except I wasn't even ready so..._

OOOOO

"Drunk." Fili nodded, a little guiltily. Thorin rubbed his forehead and sighed. "How drunk?"

"Well...he's buried under four blankets and when I tried to light a candle, he shrieked, so...pretty drunk." Fili explained with a blush.

"You got your little brother wasted? What is your mother going to say?" Fili flinched and paled at the thought. It was the third day of the Winter Festival, and most of the Dwarves in the mountain, and the Men in Dale, were sleeping off hangovers. The partying would resume once the sun set, but for now a silence had settled over most of the two kingdoms as people rested. Thorin sighed again and gestured for Fili to go. "Make sure he drinks lots of water, and get some bread in his stomach." He advised as Fili walked away.

"Kids, eh?" Dwalin chuckled from his seat a few chairs down from Thorin. The King was trying to focus on the papers in his hand, but between Fili's little announcement about Kili's current state of inebriation and his annoying best friend, it wasn't going well. "I seem to remember yeh getting pretty wasted during the Winter Festival when yeh came of age." Dwalin added when it appeared Thorin wasn't going to acknowledge him. "I wonder if Dis has told Bilbo about that yet." He smirked, finally getting Thorin's attention.

"Why would Dis tell him-"

"Oh, she's been telling all sorts of embarrassing stories. Bilbo and Thranduil drink them all up, I've heard. As well as any others who happen to be nearby to hear. Bofur nearly peed himself the other night when she talked about the incident at the first Open Market." Dwalin himself looked like he was about to burst out in mirthful laughs. Thorin glared and gave up with the papers, instead turning to his "friend". Dwalin had always liked having a laugh at his expense, and Thorin was usually okay with that. Mostly because Thorin liked laughing at Dwalin as well. But Thorin was so not in the mood to be laughed at.

"Where is my sister?" He demanded.

"Somewhere with the lad, I'd suspect. Those two've become inseparable in a frighteningly small amount of time. I'd be worried if I were you." Dwalin remarked with a quirked eyebrow.

"I already am." Thorin muttered, standing and storming out of the mostly empty counsel room. He had a pretty good idea of where to look. He'd had Nori tail Bilbo and Dis for the last few days, and they pretty much only went four places. The library, the antechamber, the training ground, and a balcony a few floors above the royal chambers. Which Thorin had not visited yet, but he suspected he probably should soon. Who knew what the two devils were getting up to. Not that he thought Bilbo was a devil but..._Dis_.

Still, he checked the other three first before heading up to the mostly empty floor. The rooms were all renovated and cleared of the wear of time, but they were small rooms, meant for only one or two Dwarves, when most of the people who came to Erebor were in families. Thorin vaguely remembered reading a proposition to tear down walls and make two rooms into one larger room, to get more people in this floor. But it looked like work was slow.

The balcony Nori talked about was near the end of the hall, where no one lived, and had not been renovated after they took the mountain back from Smaug. It was definitely more of a ledge in the mountain than an actual balcony, which made Thorin even more suspicious about what Dis and Bilbo could be doing up there. He wondered to himself if he really wanted to know. Probably not, but he was already headed that way. He heard their voiced before he saw them. Bilbo and Dis. They were...laughing. And Thorin could tell it was a real, true laugh on Bilbo's part. It was...pleasant. Especially in comparison to his usual fake laughs.

"He really said that?!" Bilbo asked through his giggles.

"Honest to Mahal! My husband was not the smoothest Dwarf under the mountain." Dis replied, through her own chortles. After their laughter died down, Bilbo spoke again.

"You must miss him terribly." Bilbo said wistfully. Dis hummed quietly, and when she caught sigh of Thorin, she nodded to him. He stopped in the doorway leading out onto the balcony, not going any further, just watching and listening. He was...amazed.

The normal, boring balcony had been transformed into rows upon rows of a garden. None of the plants had sprouted yet, but Bilbo and Dis were sitting in an unrefined section of soil pulling weeds, making way for another plot to be tilled. Bilbo was facing away from the entrance, but Dis saw Thorin. Luckily, she just winked and went back to talking to the Hobbit. Thorin didn't know whether he should be terrified by the wink or not.

"I do miss him. He was a goof, but he was my goof. I believe I will see him again someday, in the halls of my ancestors, waiting for me and our children. But in the meantime, I am more than happy to remain here raising said children. And believe me, it is a full time job." Dis sighed in exasperation and Bilbo gave a little giggle.

"Then why do you spend so much time with me?" He questioned, though it was asked with a warm tone and what Thorin could only imagine was a soft smile.

"Because you're so well mannered and sweet and it's funny to watch Thorin try to keep them in control without me." Dis shrugged, and this time Bilbo full out laughed. "What about you? Tell me some embarrassing stories about your lovers." Dis implored and Thorin could actually see his blush reach the top of Bilbo's ears.

"I've never...had a lover." He admitted quietly. Dis looked probably more shocked than was strictly called for, but she quickly recovered.

"Never?" She demanded.

"I don't have time for a lover! I had work and my mother and more work! And besides, the only Hobbits I can really stand are all much older than me and already have families." Bilbo sounded uncomfortable talking about the subject, but he was bold enough not to back down from the topic.

"Seriously? You never did anything but work and spend time with your mom?" Dis asked incredulously. Bilbo shrugged, slowing his motions a little, apparently lost in thought.

"Between the thieving, murdering, and farming, I hardly had any time for even my mother. But there was one boy. Farmer Maggot's son, Jonas. I used to see him, while I was farming. He would bring me things, like lemonade or cookies that his mother would make. I thought, just maybe, he liked me. I was even thinking about asking him to get a drink sometime." Bilbo murmured in admission. Though his voice was sad.

"But..." Dis prompted, also hearing the sadness.

"But, I'm poor Master Baggins, living in a shack with my unstable mother. Not exactly courting or marriage material. He married a Brandybuck lass, last summer. They have a beautiful smial near Buckland, a gift from his father." Bilbo smiled at Dis, obviously a fake, strained smile, and he pulled especially hard at a weed. Dis glanced up at Thorin and they both frowned.

"Do you want to be courted? And married?" Dis asked. Bilbo froze and looked up at the sky, apparently contemplating it.

"I don't know. It's what every Hobbit wants, deep down, but I guess I've been so resigned to loneliness for so long that...it just doesn't seem plausible. Does that make sense?" Bilbo looked at Dis, who smiled encouragingly.

"But, what if someone here asked to court you? It wouldn't be a tradition Hobbit romance or anything, but if someone loved you..."

"Like who? I doubt it will happen Dis."

"Say it did though." Dis insisted, putting a hand on Bilbo's. "Do you really want to be lonely?" Again Bilbo was silent for a few moments before sighing.

"No. I don't. I doubt anyone really truly wants to be alone. But I've accepted it either way." Bilbo shrugged, patting Dis' hand before returning to his work, his mask back firmly in place. Dis glanced up at Thorin and shrugged, also going back to her work. Thorin waited a few minutes before clearing his throat as a way of getting their attention. Bilbo jumped and looked over his shoulder, his eyes growing wide when he spotted Thorin. "Your Majesty." He said softly, brushing his soil covered hands off on his trousers, which earned him a little stink eye and a mutter of, '_Those were just washed_' from Dis.

"I've told you that you can call me Thorin." The King reminded him, but Bilbo only directed his eyes to the soil in front of him. "Your elder son saw fit to get your younger son wasted." Thorin told Dis, who only rolled her eyes.

"It was only a matter of time. I better get something starchy made for him to eat." Dis decided, standing and rubbing her hands to get the dirt to fall off her skin. Bilbo stood too, looking a little disappointed at having to leave his garden, and Dis looked pointedly at Thorin.

"If you wish to stay, Bilbo, I will sit with you." Thorin blurted out, and Bilbo turned wide eyes to him. Bilbo also looked at Dis, who smiled encouragingly, before he nodded at Thorin. Thorin didn't quite contain his sigh of relief, but if Bilbo noticed it, the Hobbit did not comment.

"I'll see you at the party tonight Bilbo." Dis told Bilbo, before squeezing his hand and walking away. Bilbo and Thorin stood awkwardly for a little while before Bilbo cautiously sat back down and began pulling weeds again. Thorin glanced around but noticed there really wasn't anywhere else to sit, besides the ground. He would have to have the craftsmen make some benches for Bilbo to sit on. But for now... Thorin squared his shoulder and took the seat Dis had vacated. He watched Bilbo's movements for a minute before trying his luck at pulling weeds. The first one he tried snapped off at the end of the stem, but none of the problematic roots came free like they did when Bilbo's pulled. The Hobbit giggled, and only then did Thorin realize he was watching him.

"You have to pull closer to the root, and with less force." He told the King before giggling again. Thorin could only stare blankly at him because...he laughed. He laughed, and he smiled, and it was real, and it was because of Thorin. "Here, let me show you." Bilbo grabbed his hand and moved it to another weed. He carefully curled Thorin's fingers around the base of the stem and then pulled, showing Thorin how much force to use. The root came free of the loose soil, allowing Thorin to be able to pull more of it out.

"I've never pulled weeds before." Thorin admitted.

"I guessed as much." Bilbo acknowledged, going back to his own patch of weeds. "It takes practice, which most people don't realize. Sometimes blunt force is needed, but more often then not, you have to find the right balance between your strength and the strength of the roots. Sometimes you need to be patient and use less strength, and sometimes you can just utterly destroy them." Bilbo told him, and Thorin suddenly got an image of an older version of Bilbo, sitting with a younger version of Bilbo, telling the Hobbit the same thing.

"Oin said that your father used to teach you about herbs. He taught you how to garden too, didn't he?" Thorin remarked, and Bilbo's hands stilled for a moment before continuing.

"Yes, he did." His voice wobbled a little and Thorin wanted to reach out to him, but stopped himself. "He wasn't the best gardener in the Shire, but he was always better than mother. He and our neighbor, Hobson Gamgee, used to talk a lot about gardening. And Hobson's son, Hamfest, too. I would sit next to him and listen, even though most of it wasn't interesting to me at the time." Bilbo told him, his eyes sparkling with memories from long ago.

"What happened to him?" Thorin asked, as gently as he could. Bilbo's eyes darkened a little and the small fond smile on his lips disappeared. Thorin began to think Bilbo wouldn't tell him, when the Hobbit sniffled and shrugged.

"The Fell Winter. A lot of Hobbits died, from starvation and the cold and the wolves that came into the Shire when the Brandywine River froze. My father was out, getting wood for our fire. He didn't come home, but mother said we should wait until the sun came up to go looking for him. She said he might have just got caught in a snow storm and decided to stay with a neighbor. When we found his body...there was blood everywhere. It made the snow look so bright in comparison. There was so much blood." Thorin felt his stomach twist and the urge to reach out to Bilbo came back full force. This time he heeded his feelings and softly put his hand on Bilbo's knee. The Hobbit didn't react at all.

"I'm so sorry." Thorin whispered, but Bilbo still didn't react.

"That was when everything started going bad. We hardly had time to mourn him when Lobelia Sackville-Baggins stopped by with a friendly reminder that she would buy our home in order for us to keep living. We didn't have much, after dad died, having to use all our money to pay for his funeral and for rations to survive the rest of the Fell Winter. Selling Bag End was the most logical way to get more money. And even though I didn't want to, mother still handed over the deed to Lobelia, that dreadful woman. She didn't even pay us what she said she would, but we had no way of making her give us the rest.

"At that time, fresh out of the worst winter the Shire has ever seen, it was every Hobbit for himself. They cheated and stole and stabbed each other in the back and didn't think twice about it. It only took a few months for us to end up in that horrible little shack. No one helped us, if they had the means. And the ones who wanted to help us had a way of doing so. I started working for Farmer Maggot, at a terrible pay, but at least it was something. Mother worked until her health started going, and when she got really sick, I started thieving as well. And then it just...got worse and worse and I had to do things that I didn't want to do, to keep her alive. I just wanted to keep her alive..."

"Bilbo." Thorin tried to tell himself that his voice did not crack, but who was he kidding?

"I had everything. And then in one year, it was all gone. I became the kind of person parents warn their children about. I became a monster." Bilbo muttered the last part, pulling particularly hard on a weed and ending up without the root. He stared at the weed like he wasn't sure what it was for a moment before curling his fist around it so tight that a little dribble of watery green liquid emerged from his palm and trailed down his wrist.

"All of that is in the past." Thorin said once he found his voice. Bilbo looked up at him with sadness covering every inch of his face, and practically flooding from his wide eyes.

"But it isn't. Do you think, if my father had lived, that I would be here right now? That I would know what Smaug looks like in human form? That I would know the exact pressure necessary to break a Man's bones?" Bilbo demanded, and Thorin clenched his jaw. "My past has created my present and every moment I spend in the present reminds me of that terrible past. It's very nice here, in Erebor, and there are so many wonderful people. But I am still a prisoner. I am still a thief who was caught trying to take the Arkenstone to Smaug. That is my present and it's my present because of what happened in my past."

Thorin had no words, which was infuriating since this was the moment where they would be very crucial. Bilbo was looking at him, pleading for him to say something. To dispute his words, or to agree with him. To comfort him or reject him. As long as he said something. But all Thorin could do was reach out and take Bilbo's clenched hand. He uncurled Bilbo's fingers, took the weed from the Hobbit, and then enfolded his hand between his two bigger hands.

"You are so much more than a thief and a prisoner Bilbo. And if you want to leave the past behind, you can. You just have to be willing to let it go, instead of holding onto it until it bleeds." Thorin told him, both of their eyes flicking down to the crumpled weed between them.

"How can I leave it behind when my only purpose in this mountain is to tell you whether your suspect is Smaug or not?" Bilbo questioned doubtfully. Thorin rubbed his thumb soothingly back and forth across Bilbo's wrist. Strangely enough, Bilbo actually seemed to relax from the repetitive motion.

"That takes all of ten minutes out of your day. What is stopping you for the other several hours?" Bilbo's brow crinkled and he opened his mouth a few different times before settling on looking away from Thorin, a small pout on his lips. "My friends and my family all care very deeply for you Bilbo. They can be your friends and your family as well, if you wish. That can be your future, and your present. What is stopping you from accepting them as they have accepted you? What is stopping you from smiling with your heart instead of just with your lips?"

"You of all people should know that forgetting the past is impossible." Bilbo snapped before he could stop himself. Thorin recoiled a little but kept a firm hold of Bilbo's hand.

"How much have the others told you about me?" Thorin asked nervously.

"Probably more than you would like." Bilbo muttered. Thorin chuckled shortly and waited for Bilbo to go on. "They told me about what happened to Erebor when Smaug came. And what happened to your grandfather and father. They said you stopped at nothing to reclaim your home and you almost died in the Battle of Five Armies. But if your past is now coming back to haunt you in the form of Smaug the Dragon...who is to say that mine will not? I have killed and hurt many people, even though I did not want to. I have cheated and lied and done too many terrible things to count."

"All of them for a good cause." Thorin remarked, but Bilbo only rolled his eyes.

"Not all of them. I keep trying to tell you, all of you. I am not as innocent as you all seem to believe. I have done and seen things that would mostly likely destroy other Hobbits. And in a way, they have destroyed me. I am a monster."

"I have never met a monster who gardens and reads." Thorin murmured, trying desperately to pull Bilbo out of his dark thoughts and mood. "We are all monsters, in our own ways. Some of us have done terrible things and some of us think terrible thoughts. Maybe I am more of a monster than you are. I was the one who starved and beat you." Thorin dropped his eyes to the soil between them, unable to bear whatever look would cross Bilbo's face.

"My shoulder is still a little yellow." Bilbo remarked quietly. Thorin felt guilt twist his stomach fiercely. "I was more hurt when I thought you were going to hurt my mother than any other time." Bilbo told him, and Thorin winced. "The fact that you are going to heal her, and bring her here where she will no longer suffer, more than remedies that." Bilbo added.

"I can never take back what I have said and done to you Bilbo. But I have been hoping and trying to make a better impression on you than the first one. I feel I am failing rather miserably, considering that most of our conversations end with you being angry or sad." He admitted, and Bilbo was a little shocked.

"Why would you want to make a good impression on me? I'm just a thief and a prisoner."

"I have already told you that you are more than that. Much more. And I do not know why exactly it means so much to me to change my ways in order to make you more comfortable. But I thought you should know that I do not try to make an ass of myself. It just sort of...happens." Bilbo couldn't help but smile at that, though Thorin was still looking at the soil and thus did not see it.

"It happens to the best of us." Bilbo whispered, and Thorin snorted.

"I must hold the record."

"We all have our troubles. I'm a murderer and you're bad at talking to Hobbits." Thorin glanced up at Bilbo, surprised to see a small smile on his lips. "Maybe in the future neither of us will be known for such things." He did not sound too hopeful, but the little bit of hope there was in his voice made Thorin's heart swell in his chest.

"I hope so Bilbo." Thorin said truthfully. Bilbo could only hold Thorin's gaze for so long before he looked away and cleared his throat.

"Well, if you want to stop putting your foot in your mouth, you could try talking about things that you like. People hardly ever make an ass of themselves when speaking of such things." Bilbo pulled his hand free of Thorin's and went back to pulling weeds, though he looked eager for Thorin to talk. The Dwarf King smiled and chuckled a little before starting on the weeds again as well.

"Is this your way of trying to get to know me?" Thorin asked wryly. Bilbo's cheeks warmed to a soft pink and he shrugged.

"I don't see why not." He murmured, not taking his eyes off his work. Thorin chuckled again and hoped that Bilbo didn't see the way he smiled at him. He would never live it down.

"Well, then, why I don't I start with something you may be familiar with. I actually happen to adore reading." Bilbo smiled but did not interrupt, allowing Thorin to go on. And Thorin did. They ended up talking, well mostly it was Thorin talking and Bilbo listening for hours. When Dis returned for Bilbo, she was a little surprised to see them in such an amiable state, and most of the weeds had been cleared. She smiled to herself and felt a swell of success. Oh yes. This was going to be a piece of cake.

OOOOO

Smaug considered carefully how best to get into the mountain. Of course, the most obvious answer was as a Dragon, the way he had last time. But Oakenshield and his counsel had implemented many new defenses since taking their mountain back. It was annoying. Of course, he was confident that he could get through the new defenses, with enough time and force, but he was more interested in a subtle approach this time around. Sending someone in for him had not worked. But going in himself was still an option. This would be the perfect time to do it too, what with the week long festivities taking place. Plenty of distractions for him to get in and get what he wanted.

The only thing he was still considering was what he was more intent on finding. The Arkenstone, or his little thief. If Bilbo was still alive, would he be in the dungeons? Or would Oakenshield be attempting to buy the Hobbit's cooperation with gifts and fine living quarters? More importantly, would Bilbo be bought? If so, then Smaug may have to kill the Hobbit. He didn't understand why he disliked that prospect so much.

In the end, it would not be his fault if he had to do that. Bilbo would force his hand, by being a traitor. Traitors were unacceptable. Though Smaug might be able to make an exception, so long as Bilbo was _thoroughly_ punished and apologized _profusely_ for his betrayal. If Bilbo promised to be good, Smaug would consider keeping him alive. He really did want a new pet to keep him company after he took the mountain back. And Bilbo would make the perfect little pet.

In any case, he needed to start making plans immediately. The celebration would only last for a few days more. And after it ended, it would be harder to get into the mountain. Even if he didn't find the Arkenstone on his first venture into the mountain, at least he could scout around a little. He doubted that, since Bilbo had failed, the Arkenstone would still be in plain sight above the throne. Oakenshield probably had it hidden away. He'd need to find it.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would eventually find it, and take back the mountain. He was not going to admit defeat, certainly not to the filthy Dwarves of Erebor. So what, his first attempt had failed? It was only to be expected, trusting in someone else to do his dirty work. He would not fail as Bilbo had. He was Smaug, last of the Great Dragons of the North. He had survived when the others had not, and for a reason. He was not going to let foolish Dwarves best him, not now and not ever.

Thorin Oakenshield and his filthy Dwarves would not know what hit them, after Smaug was done with them. He would aim to let none live this time, so none would be stupid enough to try to take vengeance a second time. Oakenshield would be the first to die, just to make sure. He could not think of a better gift to give himself. Except maybe the little thief. That would be a very nice present indeed. A very happy Winter Festival this was going to be, indeed.

OOOOO


End file.
